Ash Of The Titans

 

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Ms Sarkar tots up how many lies have been told by Corbynites in the last hour.

By Ben Pensant

Left-wing journalists have been getting a good kicking recently. From the lay-offs at Buzzkill to the public shaming of writers who spent a week threatening a teenager, everywhere you look progressive pundits are being punished for fighting fascism, lying about people they disagree with and penning edgy think-pieces listing the 33 signs that your miniature schnauzer is a Nazi. Combined with the UK media’s systemic erasure of Corbyn supporters, pro-EU columnists and LBGTQED activists, don’t be surprised if this time next year the international left has been outlawed altogether, reduced to earning a living knitting rainbow keffiyehs and hiding in changing rooms at Forever 22 sucking off transwomen.

Thankfully there are plenty of voices on the left who refuse to be marginalised by the alt-right establishment. And last Sunday morning saw one such voice utterly DESTROY the BBC’s flagship ‘news’ show with nothing but a horny hammer, a sexy sickle, and a boatload of bullshit. Yes, I’m talking about Ashley Sarkar you idiot, the Novaru Media lipstick leftist who brought joy to regressives everywhere with her brave, ballsy, brutally honest assertion that “the idea Corbynistas have been misty-eyed about Venezuela is largely a myth”.

As usual, she was utterly correct. Because from OJ Jones and Aaron Pinkerman to Lady Di and John McDonald, high-profile Corbynites long ago stopped merely romanticising Venezuela. ‘Misty-eyed’ is how you describe tearful MAGA kids watching Birthday Of The Nation or Leave voters reminiscing about the murder of Steven Laurence. Loyal Jezzabels on the other hand have spent the last few years ogling their favourite socialist utopia like a catholic priest sizing-up a scout hut: bone-rigid and ready to bolt but forced to keep their mouths shut while the economic powerhouse they were giving the sex-eye in 2013 transformed into a penniless basket case whose only growth industry is cannibalism.

But her main intention was to deflect the ugly, slanderous and demonstrably true claim that her comrades are long-term admirers of a corrupt authoritarian regime whose leaders oppressed and impoverished their own people while living in mansions and counting their billions. That she did this in the same week poor Ken Livingston got lost looking for his slippers and wandered into a TV studio mumbling the word ‘sanctions’ over and over takes balls of steel. And when I say ‘balls’ I don’t mean those pathetic cisgender ones filled with white supremacist spunk: I’m talking about actual balls, women’s balls – shrivelled to pips and rendered empty by hormone blockers. Or better still, hacked off and rotting in a surgeon’s bin.

Luckily, that’s exactly what Ash has. Balls. And she’s not even trans! Like her namesake from Sam Ramsey’s Return Of The Living Dead series, she refuses to be cowed, no matter how many slavering Blairite Frankensteins try to eat her up. Though unlike him she’s neither white nor male therefore ten times cooler and if she had a cock it would be much bigger than his too. Got a problem with that, TERFYCHOPS?

You only find behaviour this courageous in sexually liberated left-wing circles. And you don’t get more sexually liberated and left-wing than Ash, who’s as happy lauding communism as she is catching boy-dick. (Just as long as the boy-dick belongs to a man who respects her boundaries, apologises daily, and demonstrates his solidarity with the sisterhood by sitting down when he goes for a piss.)

Yes that’s right, Ash fucks. Like a champion. GET OVER IT. Because when it comes to sex – which most things tend to with sexually liberated left-wingers like Ash – anything goes. ANYTHING. Everyone knows the horniest in society are those of us most in thrall to sexual expression, gender non-conformity, and a political ideology which viewed all those things as decadent. This is what makes Ash more sexually daring and dangerous than those boring blonde conservative women who think they’re wild and adventurous because they once necked on with a black man but shit their knickers if you pull a knife on them.

Needless to say, Tory trolls responded with the usual hatred, harassment and factual evidence (yawn). All of which she wisely ignored in much the same way Jezza, Seamus and co. ignored news reports of desititute Venezuelans forced to eat their own pets. Because Ash’s comment wasn’t intended for people on Twitter, neither the decent leftists who worship her sassy wit and love of shoes nor the evil fascists who hate her because she’s hotter and cleverer than them. No, her comment was solely for the benefit of the people we Corbynites see as our bread and butter: the grassroots, tabloid-reading Labour voters who couldn’t care less about Twitter, Novaru or South American shit-holes but are happy to believe bad Tories spread lies about kind Mr Jezza if a cool girl with nice legs says so on the telly.

The far-left, of course, are experts at this stuff, and Ash has learnt her trade from the best. Her big sister Owen Jones is the best in the business at appearing agreeable on TV by sugar-coating what he really thinks, saving his tributes to people who kidnapped and murdered teenagers and declarations that ‘no-one was ever killed by a wreath’ for Twitter.

Similarly, we all recall with fondness the genial, open-minded manner in which George ‘Georgie’ Galloway discusses Israel and Palestine in the UK media, which contrasts sharply with the vein-bursting hellfire he spews on Press TV, helpfully complimented with an endearingly crap Arab accent just in case anyone mistakes him for Gordon Brown and shoots him. (By the way Gorgeous, can I just say how impressed I am with your new tanning and botox regimes, which appear to have turned your head into a bust of Genghis Khan fashioned from old ladies’ sunburnt tits.)

All of which explains why Ash didn’t even try to explain her comment. Evil Punch editor Fraser Nielsen attempted to counter but was no match for Sarkar, and Andrew Mars was so blown away he completely forgot to take her to task, a unique form of inertia which strikes whenever Mars is presented with a Corbynite making an untrue, outlandish or completely fuck-witted comment. Fortunately for Ash, when people asked her about it on Twitter she had a perfect method of deflection ready as she’d already devoted her day to DESTROYING foul Tory/scouse sell-out Nadine Dorris, who had laid bare her white supremacy by getting Ash mixed up with a different brown-skinned leftist. This fortuitous intervention couldn’t have come at a better time, allowing Ash to pull an OJ and ignore all the inconvenient facts pouring into her mentions in favour of earning some much-needed victimhood. Cheers Nad!

All of which got me thinking. If the BBC are serious about promoting diversity it’s time they put our money where their mouth is. It’s all good and well discriminating against white people but more needs to be done to provide a safe space for marginalised Corbynites to have their say without being forced to share a sofa with violent right-wing thugs like Fraser Nielsen and Julia Hartley-Brexit. Which is why the only fair and sensible solution to the dearth of inclusivity at the Beeb is to give Ash her own section on The Mars Show, in which she follows up her now-seminal Venezuela comment by debunking other enduring myths, such as ‘the sun is hot’, ‘France won the World Cup’, and ‘those dipsticks at Novaru couldn’t lie straight in bed’.

Just watch as the programme’s pitiful audience share trebles overnight thanks to Ash’s natural sassiness, the public’s demand for left-wing voices, and a co-ordinated hacking of the ratings system by tech-savvy eggheads at Momentum’s Media Sabotage Division. And after the inevitable runaway success sees Ash’s slot expand – not for the first time! (did I mention that she fucks like a champion?) – she’ll be perfectly placed to give something back to the feminist community which inspired her. And I can think of no better way to do that than sticking two fingers up at the stuffy establishment and the uneducated morons who voted Leave by hiring that anti-Brexit professor who writes words on her tits.

Because Dr Victoria Batshit has spent this week spreading her anti-Brexit message by tearing through lecture halls and TV studios in much the same frank, daring manner in which Ash LAID WASTE to the BBC. Granted, no-one knows what that anti-Brexit message actually is as they’re too busy talking about her fanny. But still, she’s pleased all the right people on Twitter which as we know is much more important than actually having a point.

Naturally, Dr Victoria received way more support from liberals for making a political statement by wearing no clothes than the Formula One Grid Girls did for earning a living by wearing slightly skimpy ones. Which is just the sort of cognitive dissonance that sits perfectly with the proudly hypocritical Novaru outlook. And the nude prof’s warmth and decency would make her a perfect choice to share a sofa with the equally lovely Ms Sarkar. Indeed, I was touched by the kindness Victoria displayed in making the videos of her naked speeches two minutes long, which was just the right length for me to get exactly what I wanted from them. Twice.

All in all, I’m struggling to think of a better side-chick for Ash. Fingers crossed she also reaches out to rising US star Alexandra Orca-Cortez, who – with her bold plans to stop climate change by knocking down buildings and giving money to people who refuse to work – couldn’t be more Corbyn-friendly if she pledged to save the environment by carpet-bombing Israel.

With the likes of Batman and AOC on board Ash could take over The Mars Show in months, the only downside being that most of her target audience won’t get to see it as there’s more chance of Corbyn supporter going on The Apprentice than getting up at 9am. Still, all it’ll take to wake them from their slumber is the promise of Sarkar taking a leaf out of the Doc’s book and fighting the far-right with wit, humour, and unfettered knockers. If there’s one thing guaranteed to get them out of their beds it’s the thought of Ash bashing the fash and flashing her gash.

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