Pope Gives Talk on Extremism and Inequality. Says He Loves Both.

26/09/15

After a giving a pandering speech to Democrats in Central Park, the penthouses of Park Avenue offering an effective backdrop for his otherwise half hearted speech on inequality, Francis travelled by private jet to rural Kentucky to meet with his true political brethren at the annual Tea Party conference.

 

Pope Francis, a religious gangster from Argentina, was greeted on arrival by republican front runner Donald Trump to discuss the uphill battle which conservatives face to protect their values in an increasingly liberal America.  The talk, lasting 90 minutes, began with a jocular exchange with regards to his speech in New York hours earlier,

F – “Thanks for letting me use Trump Tower as a symbol of crony capitalism during my speech, Mr Trump”

T - “It was my pleasure. And thank YOU for offering your advice in return, on how to build a wall that keeps out the poor as effectively as your wall around the Vatican”

F -“Yes, of course”

T- “See, I do the best deals”

*applause*

The pair moved on to core conservative issues...

 

T – “I’m sure our crowd would love to hear your thoughts on abortion”

F – “An unspeakable evil, I’m actually using Vatican donations in order to research how to un-abort babies”

T – “I hope that works. And equality in the workplace?”

F – “There hasn’t been a black pope for 1500 years. There are no women in my clergy. My record speaks for itself”

T – “What about taxes?”

F – “I don’t pay any”

*applause*

It wasn’t always plain sailing though between the two right wingers.  Trump is renowned for being consistent on policy, he has remained resolute in his position to “do something terrific” since announcing his campaign, and was visibly annoyed by some of the Popes indecision on certain issues.  The two right-wingers also disagreed on essential reading....

 T – “I bet the crowd would also like to know what the Pope’s favourite book is”

F – “I’d like to hear yours first”

T – “OK, The Bible. Because I wrote it!”

F - “Now that I do take objection with, I preferred Art of the Deal”[I]

Pope Francis’ first trip to the United States highlighted perfectly both the hypocrisy, and the ineptitude of Democrat Party.  Conned into paying for the Pope’s lavish travel and accommodation in return for a half cooked speech delivered in broken English before his rousing tour of the Bible belt states and jetting off back to his gilded rouge state, the left needs to seriously rethink the depths it will go in deciding who it employs to procure its latest sound bites. 


Charles Worrall


[I] - You can buy 'Art of the Deal' by Donald Trump via direct link from our website.
 

China: Crushing it Again

26/09/15

The American press are reporting on a brand new drug that has crawled its way onto the Chinese black market.  Consumed by the Chinese elite, 'Baby Powders' or 'Toddles' as it is affectionately known, has become a must have for all high flying men of the orient.
Created by crushing children under the age of 5 into a fine powder, 'kid ket' is fuelling an underground market of baby snatching. Unconfirmed reports are stating no child is safe on the streets of Hong Kong as wild, newly moneyed Chinamen, "unable to handle their nation's newfound status as a world power"[1] are stalking schools, playgrounds and hospitals in search of their next fix.
CNN have shown "accurate" recreations of Chinese tourists posing as 'pacifiers' and 'potties' in order to gain access to their precious quarry.

When consumed, the Asian nipper-sniffer will become intoxicated, making them incredibly polite, humble and welcoming.  One well known Chinese diplomat , Kim Yu, was found trying to smuggle several babies through American customs using something known as a 'pushchair' (they have also been known to use baskets, whereas some are seen brazenly holding children, even attempting to kiss them in an attempt to get a quicker fix). When questioned by US officials, their translator interpreting that Yu had said "So good to meet you. I am looking forward to visiting your fine lands and meeting your wonderful people", a statement which clearly shows that, after a 16hr flight, that he had ingested toxic substances. Yu's lawyer claimed he was on a 'family holiday' but American interpreters were unable to make head nor tails of this Asian terminology. Yu has since been transported to Guantanamo Bay where he will be held indefinitely.

With over 97% of China's population reported to be involved at some level in the production of children, the American government has made it clear that any purchase of Chinese goods, or even support of Chinese culture is now aiding a country wide criminal enterprise.
The U.N are in talks to place economic sanctions on China, led by the US congress, in an attempt to stop the flow of Chinese children into the west.

[1] Hilary Clinton 'Government Secrets and Me: An Email Diary'

Sam Barron

Travel & Lifestyle - Venice

22/09/2015


I remember my first trip to Venice because it was yesterday. I travelled to the beautiful and improbable wart in the Adriatic Sea, like most people do, to experience its holy sites, gorge on its seafood and wave at Chinese people in gondolas. Above all that, however, I was most looking forward to escaping the politics in the UK that The Truth Bar is required to report on so fastidiously. Unfortunately, it followed me. News reached me in the lagoon of Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn and London mayoral hopeful Diane Abbott's bump 'n' grind in the 1970's.  Aside from the logistics of such an act, I found myself most concerned with the possibility of a wider scheme, given that actual sexual desire most surely have played little part. Could there be a lovechild?  A political anchor baby perhaps?  No current political figure in the UK came to mind that fit the bill, Chuka Umunna is far too right wing to be the spawn of 'Corbott' and Ed Miliband not mixed race enough. I put the issue to the back of my mind and set out to learn something of the city of Venice.

 I headed for the most revered space in the city; St Mark's square, which I found out to be named after time-travelling Bostonian Mark Wahlberg, who spent a whole year in Venice during the early stages of the 19th century. He charmed the locals with his heroic sexual exploits and general braggadocio so much that they named their most beautiful piazza after him.  Wahlberg, like many romantics of his time, found much to like about the Serene Republic, of which he wrote this in his memoirs...

"Some of them are countess'", he admitted, "and some of them are cobblers' wives, some noble, some middling, some low, and all whores...I've had them all and thrice as many to boot!"... Lad.

I take stock of my surroundings but my eyes are drawn to a wizened, greying figure outside the Doge's palace. It's Corbyn, attempting to disguise himself by having his shirt tucked in, taking pictures of Abbott, who cannot be seen in the aside image on account of Corbyn having to stand several metres back to accommodate her frame. "Take one more for Barack, I'm sure he'd love a postcard", I overhear her say...
My face whitened. A love child does exist. 44th President of the United States Barack Hussein Obama. It was clear now; Corbyn and Abbott have been scheming since the 1970's to seize power at a later date by holding the elected positions of Mayor of London, UK prime minister and President of the USA in order to establish a trifecta of Islamo-communism in the western hemisphere. Now you may think that the dates do not add up, given the respective ages of the parties involved, but as we know from the controversy surrounding Obama's birth certificate initially raised by deep thinker Donald Trump during Obama's '08 campaign, the President still has much to answer on this issue.
Obama, a union thug from Hawaii ,  has been doing Corbyn's bidding on the other side of the Atlantic,  mainly crushing Christian florists, tearing up the constitution and ushering in the islamification of inner cities whilst his father ascends to power in the United Kingdom, spouting his vapid vanity along the way.

Plots of domination frequent the lower echelons of power regularly, luckily most fall foul of their own ambitiousness, and so it's hard to think how such an elaborate plan such as this could be implemented. However, the post 70's landscape was to change dramatically due to an invention that even Corbyn could not have envisaged would be such an effective weapon in his quest for world domination; The internet. The internet is an evil creation that has allowed stupid people to communicate with each other, providing an unregulated platform from which to espouse Corbyn'esque populism. Propaganda, an ancient cockney phrase meaning "don't take things on face value", can now permeate every corner of everyday life via people's tablets and smart phones.  Ideas such as 'white guilt', 'micro-agressions and 'islamaphobia', all plants by Corbyn, have been able to take root and silence dissenters, this is all thanks to the internet.  As the islamification of our precious institutions grows, there is little we can do other than raise awareness.  In light of this, The Truth Bar scientists have created Shariahometers (which can be purchased from our website) to help our readers detect no-go zones and avoid being stoned. The Truth Bar, with some assistance from Abbott's notoriously big mouth, may have rumbled Corbyn in the nick of time. Our fate now ultimately lies in the hands of the British people to make the correct decision in 2020.


Charles Worrall

Robin Williams death now in Doubt-mire....

07/09/2015

Is Robin Williams actually an African sleeper agent?


Robin Williams was a national icon, beloved for his rampant cocaine abuse and prolific wish granting, Williams had become popular between brass rubbers and drug dealers everywhere.  But new information has led us here at The Truth Bar to believe that Williams may never had made it to Never-Never-Land.
Williams, or the "Bicentennial Man" to his friends, had experienced emotional turmoil due to many challenging life experiences such as his deployment in the Vietnam war, but even fighting those vicious  and determined commie Asians pales in significance to his spell spent in solitary confinement in the warring nation of Agrabah, where he was sexually enslaved by an Arabic peasant.   These long years of torture led to a brief period of gender fluidity (further cementing The Truth Bars position on gender fluidity being inversely correlated with sanity) where Williams identified as a cis-gendered Scottish nanny. 

Trans-gender Williams

US government agencies feared Williams had been brainwashed by Arab insurgent group 'JAFAR', using his new found gender orientation as a ruse, after his failed attempt to poison British Secret Service agent, Piers Brosnan.  Fearing being exposed, Williams abandoned his convincing alias, Mrs Doubtfire, before sufficient evidence was collected, but Williams continued to meet with controversial figures.
 Understandably forming strong levels of empathy for political prisoners, Actor and Flubber inventor Williams befriended a long time inmate of San Francisco correctional facility Koko Theape. Theape, a resident of African nation Jumanji, has been held without charge for approaching 40 years, only giving interviews in sign language due to his inability to speak English.  In these messages of despair, Koko is frequently seen begging his American captors for "food" and "water" as they cackle gleefully at his rudimentary attempts at ASL [i]

Williams' parlay with long time terrorist Koko went down in infamy, particularly due to Williams' own time spent in Jumanji on "safari".  Locals, who were paid and told to say, said the two were seen laughing and exchanging pleasantries and that they noted the similarity between the two... "they were like twins, it was nigh on impossible to differentiate, we were concerned that we wouldn't be able to decide which was which, so we asked that Williams merely act like a monkey as a signal and he would be released....only an actor could be so convincing"... a watertight system.  It all seemed so simple until the good people at The Daily Mail recently reported on Koko's behaviour becoming more frantic in the wake of Williams' death. Having learnt basic English, finally, Koko has been heard screaming, "I'M ROBIN WILLIAMS, I'M FUCKING ROBIN WILLIAMS!!!"...

The Truth Bar then poises this questions; was this a bait and switch manoeuvre? the ol' switcheroo? Was Theape posing as Williams during his later years? This would certainly explain the diminishing return with regards to his performances on stage and in cinema and most importantly; his apparent "suicide".  We ask you this; would a rich, famous actor kill himself? It's a proven fact that happiness and wealth are intrinsically linked [ii], making Williams' death mired in suspicion without even considering this new evidence.




[i] - American Sign Language.
[ii] - See - The Shah of Iran & Jimmy Saville


Sam Barron

Catfishing, Misandry & the Middle East

5/9/15


“Netflix, chilling, beheading Yazidis” reads the ‘interests’ section of Abu Bakhir’s Tinder profile, one man’s brave foray into the world of online matchmaking.  Bakhir, who works for Iraqi oil company ISIS, was looking for love. Instead what he found was new-feminism at its most militant. A relatively new phenomenon, catfishing is a form of cyber-jilting carried out by scorned women looking to take men down a peg or two, and is now the subject and title of a popular MTV show created by Nev Schulman. Posing as funny, intelligent and physically attractive singles, women set about targeting vulnerable men like Bakhir by forming online relationships only to suddenly cut off all contact. Now it must be said, men should be instantly wise to this, since no woman has successfully combined those 3 attributes, and I’m sure most men spot the ruse instantly, but feminists are essentially just hammers in search of a nail and are unfortunately bound to find one eventually. 

Creator Nev
 

Usually these online relationships are purely for the offending feminist's own enjoyment, but a group of Chechen women have seen an opportunity for monetary gain from the practice of breaking hearts. ISIS employees are some of the most hardworking in the region, Bakhir often has to moonlight as a neck surgeon to pay the rent, and therefore does not have the time for traditional dating practices. Instead, they turn to Tinder, offering to pay air fare to eligible young Muslim women willing to travel to areas where ISIS trade for arranged marriages.  However whilst the funds are immediately forthcoming, the companionship is not.  Once the money is received, ISIS members accounts are blocked by the supposed wives to be, leaving them to channel their heartbreak into other outlets,  namely violence, violence which was until now believed to be fuelled by religious sectarianism and overspill from western-backed uprisings.

Areas affected by feminism

To understand what was previously thought to be such a significant contributing factor to the crisis currently engulfing the Middle East, a quick lesson in religion is required. Islam is divided into two sects; Sunni and Shia. This schism came about as a result of the acrimonious split of popular musical duet Sonny and Cher, who achieved commercial success with the 1960’s hit “I got you, Babe”. Cher went on to pursue a vulgar but successful solo career, leaving bitter fans of Sonny to declare a war that rages until this day. Less reliable publications than The Truth Bar would have you believe that it is this rivalry, (along with the toppling of dictators, sustained western airstrikes and violent scripture) which is responsible for the current crisis in the Middle East when it is in fact a direct consequence of the Chechen feminists’ brazen misandry. 

Feminism has been given an extremely wide berth until now, but the disgusting exploitation of men occupying countries that literally roll out the red carpet for women, even going so far as removing menial tasks such as driving and voting from their lives will not stand. For men like Bakhir, it might already be too late after such harsh a rejection, but by raising awareness we can help others to find love whilst simultaneously bringing peace to the region.


Charles Worrall

In Bed With Corbyn - Labour frontrunner cosys up to yet another terrorist group.

1/9/15

In Hamas and Hezbollah, Labour leadership candidate Jeremy Corbyn has an unusual set of friends, but his latest affiliation is perhaps his most controversial.  It turns out Corbyn, a sexual magical figure from England, is now cuddling up with the Tuscan Raiders.  That's right, Corbyn is a sand person.  There has been some furore over Corbyn's recent absence from public view at such a vital stage of the labour elections,  but The Truth Bar can reveal exclusively what the useless sack of bones and pullovers has been up to in recent days...



Scenes at Calais

Frontrunner Corbyn has been spotted attacking articulated lorries at the French border with groups of Tuscan Raiders in an attempt to aid the crossing of illegal immigrants to British shores. This alarming development has prompted senior politicians to warn the public about what a vote for Corybn might mean, with national treasure and political poster boy Tony Blair expressing believable fear regarding Corbyn's political renaissance.  Blair, a man with a stellar foreign policy record, told The Truth Bar, "he DID say something about returning more powerful than ever, I think he plans to amass, or should I say "Hamas", a communist force at the French border".





 

Corbyn's brethren

The recent developments about Corbyn's whereabouts in the last week have made sense of yesterdays strange demonstration outside Buckingham Palace, where the Islington North MP addressed a group of Sand People, or "People of Desertous Descent" along with some young white women. Speaking in his native tongue, Corbyn was heard proclaiming "AHKK  AKK AKKK ARAKK KAKK!" to rapturous applause from the crowd, some of which were brandishing placards bearing slogans such as "from Tatooine to Tower Bridge, Corbyn's gonna stop 'um".






Corbyn as double agent in 80's

This is clever from Corbyn, by allowing hordes of Uruk Hai into the country and offering them a path to citizenship once Labour storm to victory in 2020,  he is cunningly increasing the portion of the electorate that will no doubt vote for the "here's some free stuff" type of government Corbyn would surely preside over. Insiders say Corbyn has been a sand person for over 30 years, and despite some rumours of a period spent as a double agent, is fully committed to the cause of mass migration into Britain. 
Corybn, a known bigot, has been frequently lambasted for his stance on many issues, ranging from the killing of Osama Bin Laden, a "misunderstood porn addict" according to him, to his support of homeopathy, a somewhat outdated belief system whereby human beings regenerate using the blood of homosexuals. This, in addition to yet another endorsement of a terrorist group, could seriously jeopardise his candidacy.

We asked a spokesperson for Hamas about Corbyn's latest affiliation..."I'm disappointed, I loved Corbyn, I was so gay for him I was going to throw myself off a building".  Corbyn's other foreign policy love interests are clearly sceptical about his ability to juggle his commitments and keep promises made to the respective groups.  Lets wait and see if the Tuscan Raiders are just another notch on his bedpost along his quest to absolute power.




Sam Barron & Charles Worrall






Opinion Piece - Is Vanilla Ice Even Black?

25/8/15



All right stop, collaborate and listen, The Truth Bar is back with an important question....

Is Vanilla Ice actually a white man?

First Rachel Dolezal, then Sean King. As each day passes, more and more prominent figures in the black rights movement are being outed as white.  Through some impressive work by the good people at Breitbart News, birth certificates and police reports are being dug up that are entirely at odds with the apparently racially-fluid activist's own accounts.

This has encouraged The Truth Bar to gather information on other important figures in the black community. And who more important than loveable 90's rapper with the quiff that won't quit Vanilla Ice? Early on in our investigation into the black icon's history, we noticed some alarming similarities with Dolezal and King's embarrassing exposé...


All 3 mention not knowing who their fathers are,  a convenient and flagrantly racist allusion to black single motherhood.  All 3 use primarily black and white photographs on their Instagram accounts, either to mask their milky, privileged skin tones or as a bigoted nod to black social immobility by implying African Americans can't afford modern cameras. For impact, I'm siding with the latter. Basically, all 3 are liars.


Turning our focus back to Ice, real name Robert Matthew Van Winkle, there are some additional racial red flags more specific to his own tale. For an interior view, I sought out a man claiming to be an old acquaintance of Van Winkle.

I arrange to meet "Sir Clips-A-Lot", who apparently performed with Ice at the City Lights dancehall on the Florida breakdancing scene. We meet at Dishny, an Indian restaurant on Miami beach.
Clips-A-Lot, real name Gregg, appears to have been at Dishny for some time, or perhaps has never left. I find my source knocking back shots of the mint and yoghurt sauce normally served with poppadoms. "Good for the skin", he says, noticing my furtive glance at the growing stack of glasses on the table. His complexion was excellent...Unperturbed and with full confidence in my source intact, I shake his hand and sit down...

Gregg tells me Van Winkle, at the height of his fame, kept an amount of unusual pets. Most notably a goat called Pancho, which he loved dearly.  That's pretty much all Gregg had. But it got me thinking; this goat lived a long and happy life and was never made into goat curry, a move totally at odds with black culture.  So by buying the goat but not making it into a delicious soul-food meal for friends and family, Van Winkle only managed half the necessary cultural appropriation to pull off his deception. Lazy.

In light of these of these revelations, The Truth Bar is offering Van Winkle $25,000 to prove his blackness by way off a DNA test. A refusal or non-reply to our proposal will surely put this story to bed.


Charles Worrall

OVARY-ZONE LAYER - Are Women's Opinions Destroying the Enviroment?

22/9/15

Growing fears surrounding the concept of ‘Climate Change’ had previously led to news outlets irrationally blaming the innocent use of fossil fuels. Until recently, the struggling automotive industry had been buckling under the weight of slanderous attacks, lauding that the use of their products is leading us towards a global catastrophe’.

Despite this, shocking new evidence has come to light, provided by reliable sources at the IMI (The Institute of the Motor Industry) proving that it is in fact one of the world’s most toxic substances that is leading to our buoyant temperatures here in the UK – women’s opinions.

After an extensive one month study, scientists have discovered conclusively that weather maintains and stabilises far better in nations where women are forbidden from vocalising their damaging thoughts. Afghanistan, Iraq and Sudan have now been labelled as climate ‘Safe Zones’ and will harbour those seeking asylum from the thunderous encroachment of hazardous lady-talk.

Specialists in the field have discovered strong correlations between women’s opinions and the beginnings of natural disasters, even as far back as 2004’s Indian Ocean Tsunami which is now believed to have been caused by a local Thai woman. Minutes prior to the wave crashing on to Thai shores, Ming Pak was heard saying “I think we’re in danger”, lending more credence to this new evidence.

Women marched on Westminster today in order to rebuke the claims made by the IMI but the rally had to be called off due to extreme weather conditions.

Sam Barron

Travel & Lifestyle - A Very Caucasian Adventure

Charles Worrall

Our editor-in-chief Sam Barron (@TheKingBarron) is currently practicing his very special brand of non-violent colonialism across south east Asia, hence the temporary lull in Truth Bar content. Now a slave to 50p beers, and thus nearly entirely incoherent, Sam is sending me a hiccupping account of his travels.
It is my job to curate, sometimes even embellish, the best bits in the hope of steering more people away from wasting good Sterling in such doomed economies and impoverished lands, often bravely promoting falsehoods in order to convey a greater truth.

We start at the beginning....



Mumbai to The Long Hostel

I'm sitting in a wheelchair; the Mulligatawny soup I ate several hours prior has worn me down to a point of (near) disability.  My legs are so heavy with spice, the respite the chair offers is all too welcoming.   I fear but do not regret to say it, but the bowl didn't reach the splendid highs set by M&S Selly Oak branch years before, the Indian original only amounting to a pale imitation of a once mighty British knock-off.  But enough about broths. I have at this point been in Bombay's bosom for a mere 6 hours of a daunting 21.  I go looking for a Daily Mail.

Hour 15

Rosie is sleeping in a most undisturbed fashion as I loom over her, returning the passing glances of intrigued Mumbites and other dark men, my shoe laces tied to my excellent Osprey Travel Sack (£80, I spare no expense).  Considering my options, I decide to break up the monotony with a trip to the bathroom where I discover such wonders as..

-A man washing the inside of his mouth with soap.  I assume he has been cursing and now deeply regrets it,

-Showers in the toilets which, I assure Rosie, are NOT for cleaning the inside of the toilet.


Time has lost all relevance - I take a trip to the smoking room with a new friend, his name unpronounceable, his accent indecipherable. We chat about separate things but I'm fairly certain he mentions that I am "tall" and "clever", or maybe it was "better call Saul" and "leather". I am disappointed as I realise neither are likely.

Hour 21

As I step on board our flight I inform Rosie that I will be sleeping for the next 8 hours.  I am true to my word.


I wake up in Bangkok,  why am I in Bangkok?  I tell myself its another problem that only sleep will fix, I tell Rosie to "sort it out" and return to my slumber, my dreams are of Michael Keaton's batman suit and Visas.

I regain consciousness in Ho Chi Mihn.  I've read previously that Vietnam was a somewhat corrupt county, each man a shyster or a crook, so naturally I found a woman to help us through customs.  She tries to rip me off for $30. In all honesty she may have received this sum had it not been for Rosie's flaring nostrils and stern temperament.  Incredibly, Rosie and her stubborn resolve force the Asian wasp to abandon her pursuit, leaving my Vietnamese Dong (a currency I am unable to say or spend without laughing) completely intact.

After a few skirmishes with Ho Chi Mihn's Hostage Negotiators, or taxi drivers, we are able to secure a cab at one tenth of the previously cited charge.  This takes all my cunning (and someone's Vietnamese mother) to achieve and within moments we are tearing through the monsoon battered streets of downtown Ho Chi Mihn.  Caught in an endless swarm of mopeds, ridden by children, the elderly, women in high heels, men in high heels, people playing violins composing symphonies, another playing a sorrowful score on a Steinway grand piano, I think I even saw one woman cooking dinner, a small stove propped up on the back seat.  But I have yet to decide how untrustworthy a narrator I am to be.

Day Two

'Snake juice, Vietnamese hookers, rich Chinamen and a pub quiz'

"What is morning glory?" I ask Rosie as I pursue yet another dense Vietnamese menu. "is it like, fried dicks?" I say intelligently.  As it turns out they are a more delicious version of a green bean (in the sense that green beans are very undelicious), served in yet another spicy broth, alongside my now almost inescapable 12-15 Saigon Specials.   For pudding Rosie selects the 'traditional' option of banana pancakes which are woefully under seasoned but woelessly (new word) banana'd.  My pudding consists of one part dead cobra and one part heavily fermented rice wine, which upon daring a Dutchman to consume with me, I discover is a powerful aphrodisiac

Opinion Piece ; Cecil the Lion & The Hawksmoor

White man kills black single parent sparking outrage amongst keyboard moralists

A once magnificent beast. Murdered. Butchered. Displayed as an object of human enjoyment. The 48 day aged prime rump from the Hawksmoor’s spitalfields branch is a triumph.

Due to my having to write for this column always clashing with my not wanting to write for this column, I have decided to make my life easier by coupling this weeks restaurant review with my take on the heinous taking of a lions life, Cecil, by American dentist Walter Palma. I intend to address this in short order, but for now lets keep our cross-hairs firmly on my evening meal.  
Executive chef Ty McMullen, formerly of 5^th & Below on White Hart Lane,  has adjusted the side dishes for the upcoming autumn season to accompany its already renowned cuts.  And with a couple of weeks still to go until the beginning of September, The Truth Bar has kindly been given the green light for early access to the autumn shake up.  Summer  favourites such as Heritage tomatoes with basil oil have given way to a medley of root veg, and in the place of salsas? imaginative chutneys are taking up the mantle of complementing your carne.

However, as much as the deep notes of sweet celeriac try to comfort me, my mood is instead soured by thoughts of Cecil. Cecil, a striking alpha male from Zimbabwe was, according to western (code for trusted) media outlets, a firm local favourite among the indigenous peoples. Peoples who would no doubt cite, if The Truth Bar had the budget/desire to talk to them, the dignified way in which he lived his life of eating, killing, fucking and pooping. A noble existence indeed. But last week this noble existence was cut short by selfish healthcare provider Walter Palma...

BANG! My excellent waitress for the evening, Tami, rouses me from my mourning.  The sound of lamb cutlets hitting the polished wooden table ring out like a gun shot. And wow! What cutlets!

superb

Cooked sous-vide and finished on the grill, they evoke all the right memories from late summer evening BBQ’s, the dish of the night by a country mile. Within in minutes Tami is back to take my plates away and as I decide on pudding, thoughts turn back to Cecil and more pressingly, the fate of his assassin…

There is talk, with sustained support from groups such as P.E.T.A, for Walter Palma to be extradited and tried in the courts human rights stickler Robert Mugabe. Calls for extradition have gained traction in recent days with the popular twitter movement “#BlackLivesMatter” taking a break from ending police officer’s careers to publicly back black single parent Cecil. Spokeswoman Tracy Jackson offered this compelling rationale; "Cecil was from Zimbabwe, therefore he was black, and black lives matter”[i]. Palma has since gone into hiding, prompting attention to be diverted to a far more alarming development; the destiny of Cecil’s cubs. 

Pervert Jericho

In the lion kingdom, when the alpha male dies or is killed, the position is assumed by the next most impressive male, in this case Cecil’s brother Jericho, who is obliged by lion law to slaughter any young left behind to appear sexier to the females in the pack.  Jericho, a known sexual deviant, has decided to keep the cubs as sexual slaves in a sickening act of disregard for big cat protocol.  It seems the phenomenon of the creepy uncle extends well beyond the human race, thus sentencing the cubs to a fate worse than death.

I forgo dessert as thoughts of lion molestation have by this point vanquished my appetite,  but my experience has thus far been positive, The Hawksmoor will continue to deliver as the nights roll in and we enter the winter months. I hope we can all honour Cecil’s legacy by finding comfort in this, I have.

Charles Worrall

[i] – we realise that not all lions from Zimbabwe identify as black and not all non-negro lions identify as so.