The slippery, slippery slope

Sir,

As the only self-appointed, and unpaid, voice of reason and moral decency left on this Godforsaken Mediterranean blob, I have, once again, to put pen to paper to express my outrage and total disgust at the latest locally propagated profanity to regale my senses.

Sir, are you aware that living among us – unencumbered by legal restraint or any sense of ethical decency whatsoever – are those that are wantonly advocating the legal recognition of (I can hardly bring myself to write the words) same gender unions.

Yes, you may well gasp in horror, exclaim in revulsion, genuflect in abhorrence, but if these primeval forces of darkness are not cut off at the root and are allowed to get their evil way, this abomination will indeed enter the statute books as the law of the land.

The information was relayed to my senses, (when visiting my local purveyor of news, filth and pornography) from between the pages of my reserved copy of Transvestite Times… I take it for the spot-the-ball competition.

I can tell you, sir, that when I informed the good lady wife (GLW) of this potential apocalypse, the poor lady very nearly choked on her toastie and, as you are by now aware, she is not a woman to faze easily or often. I well remember an incident at our hill station high in the Hindu Kush, way back in the days leading up to the mistaken granting of so-called independence to one of England’s last colonies… India.

On this occasion, I was unfortunately detained at divisional HQ, some 400 miles away, so the GLW was left to hold the fort – literally – until my return. Unfortunately, my absence coincided with a particularly savage and unprovoked uprising by the somewhat undomesticated tribes thereabouts.

Undaunted and totally fearless, the GLW faced down these marauding mavericks, armed with nothing more than a hickory riding crop, a pair of utility jodhpurs and a copy of Robert Baden Powell’s erudite tome, Scouting for Boys.

Needless to report, these precursors of the Taliban fled without so much as a beard – or in the case of the GLW, a moustache – being singed. That is the sort of filly she was!

So when I imparted to her the news of the impending end of civilisation as we know it, ’tis no wonder her reaction was so extreme. In fact, had I not been standing directly behind her when I conveyed said information, I fear I would have been treated to a half-masticated toastie face-pack, such was the velocity of her unscheduled buccal eruption.

It’s a great shame that our dear island is no longer under direct rule from Buckingham Palace. Our gracious Queen would never have stood for so-called same-persuasion unions. Nobody of royal blood would ever contemplate such a thing, whatever else they may get up to.

Our dear monarch, for example, would no more consider getting into bed with another woman, even one of impeccable breeding, than she would dream of missing Royal Ascot.

Which is more than can be said of Britain’s current Prime Minister. I see from the Telegraph that he has the gall to announce to the world that he is “married” to some fellow by the name of Sam! How dare he?! Obviously, this disgusting information has trickled down to the so-called lawmakers of this our blighted isle, who see no shame in preparing the way for a similar situation to prevail here.

Well no, sir, I for one will not permit this cataclysmic predicament to ever become ‘law’. Marriage is a union between chaps and chapettes, stags and hinds, fellows and floozies and not between chaps and chaps, stags and stags, or fellows and fellows.

And so I call on our indolent lawmakers, yet again, to face up to their responsibilities and legislate against this latest proposed outrage.

Stop the rot, sir, before it infests even those of us who are still pure of heart and mind, and stop it now!

Yours in cataclysmic rage,

D.G ‘Hardly-Breathing’ Gatt,
KOMR ret’d.