Category Archives: politics

Truss the PopCon gnat

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The flies are beginning to emerge from the wheelie bin in Lydd. One overly ambitious fungus gnat, named The Truss, is already waiting on the far right of the lid to spout her hate to anyone who happens to be flying by. Those maggots yet to metamorphose continue to feast within the bin, their appetites undeterred by The Truss’s antics. Among the remnants of discarded waste, they have found sustenance in a lettuce, the wilting vegetable that had outlasted her short 49-day tenure as Prime Minister.

Drawing inspiration from her hero, Maggot Thatcher, The Truss meticulously cultivates an image reminiscent of the former Prime Minister, from her demeanour to posing for photographs atop various unsavoury heaps, be it landfill sites or compost bins or the grass verges where people walk their dogs. Though diminutive in stature, her presence exudes an aura of insignificance, a testament to her desperate pursuit of influence.

Beneath this faux facade of power and prestige, The Truss remains an abhorrent figure to the worms entrenched in the compost below. They bear the scars of her past economic policies, which left them destitute when their compost bins were emptied in the name of progress. As she resurfaces with renewed ambition, they squirm angrily, questioning why she wasn’t squashed for the havoc she wreaked upon their livelihoods.

Her aspirations seem limitless as she aims to spread her messages of animosity far and wide. Known for her penchant for posturing and her apparent belief that soundbites could substitute for sound economic policy, The Truss has rebranded herself as a PopCon, taking a swipe at anyone who doesn’t see the world through her very narrow compound eyes. Her delusions of grandeur knew no bounds when she ventured across the pond to hobnob with the likes of Nigel Fraaage and Donald Dump, to complain her tenure as Prime Minister was “sabotaged” by the “administrative state and the deep state,” “wokenomics”, and boldly announcing that environmentalists are the new Communists… On and on she trilled, much to the bewilderment of the moderate observers of the ecosystem who see her as a fly in the ointment for democracy.

As she incessantly flutters about in a frenzy of self-importance, the only ones genuinely captivated are the few insects who inhabit her realm, who will hopefully be swatted into oblivion at the next election.

Political Wriggling

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In a wheelie bin in Lydd, there lived a rather odd maggot named Nigel Fraaage. Nigel was no ordinary maggot; he had a penchant for wriggling into the most controversial places and stirring up a storm in the garbage heap of politics.

Nigel was born in the compost bin of conservatism, surrounded by the decaying remnants of outdated ideologies. From a young age, he showed an uncanny ability to thrive in the filthiest corners of political discourse. His ambition was as boundless as the landfill he called home.

Nigel had a talent for convincing other maggots that the best way to address their problems was to blame it all on the bluebottles. “Those flies are taking away our opportunities to feast on the rubbish of our choice!” he’d exclaim, his maggoty followers nodding in agreement, utterly oblivious to their own inevitable transformation into flies.

Fraaage’s rise to prominence was fuelled by his ability to tap into the fears and insecurities of his fellow larvae. He promised them a utopia where they could freely devour whatever putrid thoughts they desired without interference from insects in the ‘Woke Brigade’. His rallying cry echoed through the compost bin: “Let’s Make Garbage Great!”

His uncharismatic speeches were not without their share of controversies. He once claimed that the decline in compost quality was due to the influx of earthworms taking up space that rightfully belonged to maggots. He proposed sending the worms back to where they came from, conveniently omitting the fact that worms play a vital role in breaking down the compost and enriching the soil.

As Nigel gained popularity, he attracted a swarm of loyal supporters who hung on to his every wriggle. They proudly donned “Reform the Compost Bin” t-shirts and waved Union Jacks adorned with slogans like “Maggots First.” They pretended not to see him eat a fellow maggot for a vast sum of money on his foray into the jungle on ‘I’m a Celebrity…’, proving just how insincere his feelings towards his supporters really is.

However, Nigel’s grand plans to rule the compost bin were thwarted when a group of enlightened woodlice exposed the flaws in his agenda and highlighted the importance of diversity in the ecosystem. The compost bin inhabitants, finally realising that blaming the flies or the worms was not the solution, turned their attention to creating a more inclusive and sustainable environment.

And so Nigel, defeated yet again, wriggled back into the shadows from where he came, leaving behind a cautionary tale about the dangers of following a maggot with a misguided agenda. But beware, as the climate heats up and the mountain of garbage grows ever bigger, the political wriggling will only become more pronounced.

Sycophants

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In the bustling anthill of Torytopia, there lives a colony of industrious ants who are known far and wide for their exceptional talent in sycophancy. These are not your ordinary, hardworking ants; these are sycophant ants, experts in the fine art of crawling over each other to please their esteemed leaders.

Yellow meadow (sycoph)ants

At the moment, they are ruled by a small unelected ant, and his lackeys are more than willing to bend over backwards, or forward, or whatever direction he desires, to gain his favour. The colony is a well-oiled machine of adulation, where the highest form of achievement is not measured in the success of tunnel excavations, but in the ability to flatter and fawn over the leader.

One day, he decides to implement a new honeydew tax on aphid farmers, who are already struggling to make ends meet. The sycophants, eager to please, hail this decision as a stroke of genius as this will give them more resources to line the corridors of their anthill. They swarm out on to the media merry-go-round mimicking his support for the policy.

As expected, this announcement sends shockwaves through the chambers of the neighbouring anthill, a bustling red ant community that prides itself on progressive policies and an unwavering commitment to ant diversity. They are not about to stand silent as their hardworking aphid farmers are being taxed into oblivion. Antgela, the deputy leader who is always looking to Build a Better Anthill, questions the wisdom of such an oppressive tax regime. She recognises the aphid farmers as the “backbone of our colonies” and goes all out to protect them.

Soon enough, the red ant influencers are rallying support to #SaveOurSap on Antstagram, and sticking socialist posters on all the neighbourhood trees. At the same time, the sycophants are busy painting Redwall as an antnarchist swarm aiming to disrupt the corrupt life of Torytopia. They flood X with slick posts pleading “For a Brighter Future: Squash the Red Ants!” and even start a news network, “Formicidae Broadcasting Corporation” which, unsurprisingly, only broadcasts what Torytopia deems to be the truth.

In the midst of this sycophantic fervour, a lone ant named Antsy dares to question the narrative. Antsy, a free-thinker with a penchant for critical analysis, wonders aloud if maybe Redwall aren’t as bad as they are being led to believe. The sycophants, aghast at such heresy, immediately label Antsy a traitor and banish him from Torytopia. As he crawls away, he can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of a society so obsessed with flattery that it can’t tolerate even the slightest hint of independent thought.

As for the sycophants, they go back to doing what they do best – crawling over each other to please whoever is in charge.

A political cockroach

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In the stinking gutters of British politics, Prime Minister Fishi Sunak has embarked on a mission to prove that even the most unwanted pests can find a cosy home in the heart of government. In a move that left many scratching their heads (and some itching their skin), Fishi has demonstrated an unexpected flair for entomology, welcoming Cameron the Cockroach back into the political fold with open antennae, presumably to tap into the former leader’s unparalleled expertise in dodging accountability and surviving political disasters. It seems the phrase “you can’t kill a cockroach” now applies not only to nuclear fallout but also to political fallout.

A dead cockroach swarming with ants

As Lord Dave scuttles back into the limelight, you can’t help but marvel at the sheer audacity of it all. Often called the Teflon-coated Blattodea of British politics, he has proven that no scandal or mishap can keep him away from the intoxicating allure of power. It’s as if he never left: the EU Referendum, austerity, the Greensill scandal, and the infamous pig’s head incident were mere blips on his political career. Are we supposed to feel grateful for the opportunity to witness the second coming of a creature known for its uncanny ability to survive anything and everything, including its own questionable decisions?

But the appointment of Cameron could be seen as a nod to recycling, something that environmentalists might appreciate if only it weren’t applied to politicians. After all, why let a good prime ministerial career go to waste when you can reuse, reduce, and redeploy a Tory relic who has already proven his ability to weather scandals?

As we watch this farce unfold, we can’t help but wonder if it is a masterstroke of leadership or a laughable attempt at reviving a bygone era. In any case, we can rest assured that Dave is back and ready to cruise through another nuclear political winter. After all, who better to guide us through turbulent times than the insect who ineptly navigated the murky waters of the Brexit referendum and promptly abandoned ship?

Squashed

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Asian hornet Vespa velutina (photo taken from the BBC website)

Well, she has finally gone. Suella, the Asian hornet, has been unceremoniously squashed and evicted from her throne as Home Secretary. She inspired hate everywhere she flew. Her ability to spread discord was truly remarkable, as if she had a personal vendetta against harmony, whether it was immigration, law enforcement, or lifestyle. Her droning had a way of making insects feel like they were caught in a spider’s web, unable to escape her stinging rhetoric. Her tenure was like a never-ending summer of discontent, marked by controversy and her incessant buzzing as a right-winged provocateur. And let’s not forget, she is also guilty of the mass murder of honey bees.

Suella had a talent for poisoning the reputation of everything she touched. Migrant moths, who fluttered over the Channel to escape the changing climate, were treated like pests; homeless bees, merely pursuing a cleptoparasitic lifestyle, were shamelessly portrayed as freeloaders; insects who needed to metamorphose were vilified and described as ‘woke’; and all the creatures who gathered en masse to protest against insecticide use were classified as hate marchers.

Beewolf Philanthus triangulum with honey bee

But the right-winged drama hasn’t gone away. The ‘patriotic’ Tory beewolves, ironically immigrants themselves, are slowly establishing themselves in the country, digging their nests in amongst the democratic mining bee neighbourhoods and also quietly wiping out the local honey bee population. And the honey bees, who are already swarming with anxiety over the new King bees’ grand plan to trim down the monarchy and have fewer hives, are nervously buzzing about extinction. Suella might have been squashed for this year, but the threat is still there…

At least the dragonflies can celebrate as they wave good riddance to the sewage spiller Thérèse Coffey.

Information about Asian hornets here.