uKunst Edition 017: Special Edition >Britain Unchained

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EDITORIAL

Britannia Unchained

Well, my fellow republicans, our numbers must have swollen due to the unprecedented and unfathomable events of the last few months. If not then we will never be free. Welcome to this special edition of uKUNST and the theme for this issue, following the plagues, invasions, genocides, irrational mornings and our homegrown political humbuggery is inevitably Britain or Britannia Unchained.

Post-Brexit, yet somehow Pre-Austerity, the nation, having survived the ravages of Corvid, limps on towards the inevitable rapture. Or maybe rupture. Once again the populations are distracted by the circus of events playing out in the national imagination, psyche and media. These topdrawer entertainments severally induce fervent bouts of nostalgia, historical revision, colonial myth-making and breath-taking abuses of position and power. Millions in public nances are lavished on ceremonial farewells attended by the fawning, drooling and duplicitous members of the Privy Council, accounting for every main minister and leader in recent history, including those left leaning. As cortege horses are retained in the Mall for the coronation of Charles The Turd in May 2023 not for the rst time there is around Westminster an over-abundance of dung.

Once again we explore whether recent events, events dear boy have conspired to bamboozle the general people and major stakeholders? There is strong suspicion and some evidence that our leaders, those in power and the corporations have been at the old lying, raping and pillaging again under the smokescreams of Russian war, the mourning of national treasures, electoral larceny, sh style plastic, natural catastrophe, energy company pro teering and cries of death to the dictator! But which dictator? The world is awash with them! Watch them all smiling at the consequences at COPOUT 27. FOSSIL FOOLS ARE KILLING US! And commanding an army of press-gangs the curt and humourless Tsar Rasp Putin.

Back home in dear Old Blighty that pre-war feeling just got more uncomfortable as the media once again contested the government assertion that Brexit was a key requirement for growth, growth, growth! I don’t know why they keep repeating it, we heard them the rst time and are just awaiting its appearance. Micro-tenured Chancer of the Exchequer, Kami-Kwasi Mugabe, sidesteps the O ce for Fudgery & Irresponsibility to deliver a minibudget that not only ruins the nation’s global nancial brand but also hangs himself and his boss, Liz Cuss, out to dry as the party turns on them. After a week cowering under her desk she mysteriously visits a swinery of pigs at The Trough Inn, Tufton Street. Outlived by a domestic lettuce or cabbage trickled down Trussenomics kicks the bucket leaving a huge gaping scal hole to be lled by incoming Chancer Jeremina Kuntz. Smirking slightly he imparts the reintroduction of austerity and imposition

of eye-wateringly di cult decisions. Penny Moribund sneers that working for the country it’s important to be optimistic in politics. But what about optimism in politicians? Stir Clear Stammer (another Privy Counsellor) fails to inspire any but his close team with his lacklustere and backless leadership. But it must be our old friend Jason Grease-Dogg who gets the award for Upper Class Twat Of The Age with his throwback mindset, faux Victorian imperialism and fraudulent venture scalism. Also let us not forget Andrea Failey (The Old Pro Of Dreadbeadle Street) who went from Bank of England Chief Cashier to Financial Misconduct Authority Chief Executive to BoE Head and seems to have all the raison d’être of an out of season prostitute as he drops his monetary drawers to reveal nothing of any real interest or value. These so-called politicians exhibit only their ubiquitous self-interest, greed and inhumanity. Strikes are becoming endemic with barristers, transport and postal workers, nurses and civil servants all demanding cost of living pay increases. Small government Tories say the money just doesn’t exist for such public sector increases. April 2022, 650 Members of Parliament x £2,000 pay rise = £1,300,000. All the political parties continue to fail the people they supposedly serve but as the punter asked if he would vote Conservative if alcohol duty was reduced replied, “Voting Tory is like throwing yourself in a river just because you are thirsty!” Perched gargoyle like on an outcrop of the Westminster Tower, an emaciated, mutated ex-Advisor rolls his Gollum-like eyes and wretches, “What’s quantative easing Precious?, Is it tasty? Is it?”.

After an autumn into winter of unseasonal weather and the ensuing droughts and oods, the annual NHS Organ Harvest Festival and whisperings of the return of Guido Fawkes, the Centenary of the Grievous Bodily Broadcasting Corporation and the passing of Good Queen Bess one can only imagine a less eventful time next year. Or can one? As Lone Skum completes a $39 Billion Twitter platform purchase resplendent with reforms and sta layo s many fear the multiplanet species billionaire will soon have a combative Neuralink head chip in their skulls. Many hope that before such fears are realised he will be a non-dom inhabitant of Mars. So, and don’t bother shooting the messenger or arresting the journalist as we despair at eating food that tastes of a plastic carrier bag let’s look towards the end of empire and the beginning of the new republic. Welcome to this spontaneous and passionate special edition. uKUNST

Thank you to all the contributors and our key supporters for their continued interest in our art movement.

Enjoy

Der Herausgeber November MMXXII

6 | Fuxus Kunst | The Old Trickle Down

Empirical Smile | Michael Barnes-Wynters

BRITANNIA UNCHAINED

To paraphrase Rousseau, ‘Man has voted to be free, but everywhere is in chains.’ We had been promised greater freedoms, but I had certainly not seen any. It was time for some answers. Putting on my roving reporter hat I decided to call Conservative Central O ce. Logic would suggest, all I had to do was believe the exact opposite of what they told me and I would know where we stood. I got through to the switchboard almost instantaneously.

“Good morning, I’m a journalist for uKUNST”

“You what?”

“uKUNST”

“Fuck o !” The line went dead

I needed another approach. I called again. “I’m putting together an article about the new freedoms Brexit has brought us and wondered if I could talk to a minister?”

“Are you having me on?”

“Not at all. I believe there was a minister for Brexit bene ts, could I talk to him?” There was a strange honking noise on the other end of the phone. “Are you alright?” I asked

“Sorry, just snorted some tea out of my nose. We had to let that minister go. He wouldn’t come out of his room.”

“Oh dear, that’s a shame. It’s a really important question, whether we have any of the freedoms promised to us, whether we have been able to shrug o any of our chains, and I’d like to get the government’s point of view. Is there anyone from the Home O ce – the Home Secretary maybe?”

“Not for a few days, I’m afraid, that department’s on a ban, no electronics for the rest of the week. We’ve had to take their phones and computers away.”

“OK. How about this. I understand there’s now a Minister Without Portfolio, they should have a general idea of what’s going on in all the departments.”

“Traditionally that would be the case, but the minister in question simply forgot where she left her portfolio. She had one, she’s virtually certain, and we’ve walked her ‘round the di erent cabinet o ces looking for it, but nothing’s come back to her so far. The other problem is, she’s a bit dull. We can’t remember which department she was in either…”

“Is there anyone I can talk to?”

“I think the Minister for Sewage will be back from lunch shortly.”

“I didn’t know the was such a thing as a Minister for Sewage. I thought that would simply come under the Environment banner.”

“Well… That did use to be the case. But the Environment is a big thing to look after, as you can see for yourself if you ever wander around in the countryside for a while. And to be honest, with too much information the Minister’s mind would start to wander. So we’ve had to hive parts of it o . I’ll see if I can get him.”

There was a minute or so of various clicks and odd tones, then the voice came back.

“It seems he was just about to nish lunch, but has just ordered another bottle of claret, a large brandy and a cigar, so could be some time. However, as it happens, I can guess what you were going to ask him. ‘Why is one of the only freedoms Brexit has brought us is the freedom to dump unlimited sewage in our waters.’ But there you see you don’t have the whole picture. This sewage dumping was in fact a joint initiative by the Departments of Immigration and Health. It was meant to point out two things. Firstly it was meant to help tackle the rise in obesity. It was meant to point out, if you eat too much, you’re going to shit too much, so better cut down or you’ll be drinking your own poo. Secondly it was meant to point out that, if you allow too many immigrants in, then there’s more people eating food and there’ll inevitably be more shit as well. It’s a fact of life.”

“If any journalist had been briefed with this, frankly absurd, insulting and dangerous policy I think I would have heard about it”

“That was the Minister for Communication’s fault” he sniggered. You’d scarcely believe it, with everything that’s gone on recently, but he forgot to send the email…”

THE NEW BEDLAM

How did those freaks of ancient crime

Hoist on us endless mounting greed?

How was the clueless flock on-line Hooked on nostalgia’s slow drip feed?

How did malevolence refined

Pull hoods over rose tinted eyes?

How was a new Bedlam built here Upon these dark Brexited Isles?

Serve me a pint of taken piss.

Serve me a bowl of steaming shite.

Serve me a pile of karmic lies. Serve me what serves you right.

There’ll be no end of mental plight

Nor shall this curse be ever banned

Till we have swept this new Bedlam

From England’s godforsaken land.

New Bedlam

A

POEM

FOR THE UNDERGROUND

items trapped in the doors causes stress & delay please keep your belonging with you at all times passenger emergency alarm located at opposite doorway book a car for that please please be kind to the sta like your mum mind your head in the clearing? move from plan a to plan b Birkbeck up & over our iconic record roof priority seat please o er this seat to those less able to stand travel into zone 1 emergency alarm c c c no smoking c every journey matters CCTV cameras in operation for further information contact 0845 330 9880 for your life’s work stand clear of the closing doors Wapping Crystal Palace Shepherds Bush & Clapham Junction ! see it say it sorted hear it taste it feel it train it tram it tube it see it say it love it the good doctor 24:10:22 Sent from my iPhone

St. James Queue | Peter Marsh

Fuxus Kunst | Die Alte Fick Schwiens

First published in 2022

By uKUNST

United Kingdom

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