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The Brigadier’s Small Column

      
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Eton’s finest casts a monocled eye over the Harry Potter books… 

  Now then, the first thing to say about all these ruddy Harry Potter books is that they’re all just a damn silly lot of tosh. I haven’t actually read any of them personally but I believe I know enough about them to be able to write an insightful and well-balanced review.

Who in bally hell would want to read a lot of namby-pamby drivel about a bunch of oiks and yobboes learning how to be wizards? Hogwarts? Hogwash, I call it. As far as I’m aware, in none of the books is there even a single mention of the greatness of the British Empire, Her Majesty the Queen, or any of the major military campaigns throughout history.

If this is the sort of nonsense young people are reading nowadays, it is no wonder that this once-great nation of ours is going to the dogs and the Polish. Not that I’ve got anything against the Poles of course. Damn brave bunch of fighters in WWII as I recall.

When I was a youngster, I read everything by Rudyard Kipling and Captain W. E. Johns. Now they were two chaps who really knew how to write a morally-uplifting yarn. Never bothered with all that Enid Blyton stuff myself. Mostly for girls that kind of thing – well, girls or cissies and homosexuals. Not that I’ve got anything against homosexuals; in fact, during my years in the army I had plenty of good men under me who were homosexuals, I can tell you.

Thinking back, it was Captain Johns’ Biggles books which first made me want to join the army, even though Biggles himself was in the air force; what do all the youngsters reading Harry Potter want to be when they grow up? Wizards???

I’m not disputing that J. R. R. Rowling is a pretty little filly. Quite a corker in my opinion, but that’s not exactly the point here. She doesn’t seem to have the faintest grasp of the kind of thing young chaps want to read. Give Potter a spell in the army is what I say! Get him playing a good hard game of rugger instead of that damn silly Quim Itch or whatever it’s called!

So come on, J. R. R., you’ll never make any money writing this sort of balderdash. Give the youngsters what they really want – gripping stories about the great days of the Empire, war heroes, military campaigns, and so forth. Don’t turn this great country of ours into a nation of wizards. Enough said?

 (Incidentally, J. R. R., if you’re reading this, I’m a rather sprightly 86-year-old who’s still got a bit of lead left in the old pencil if you know what I mean. Leave a comment if you’re interested…)

Brigadier ‘Buffy’ O’Shea-McGregor-Davies DSM OBE STD

Note: The Brigadier’s views do not reflect those of Hardline Magazine staff, just in case JK Rowling is reading. The Brigadier’s true identity is kept secret at his own request; however, if HL gets sued by Ms Rowling, the Management will happily provide evidence of the Brigadier’s name, address, telephone number, inside-leg measurement, and membership of exclusively-male massage parlours.

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4 Comments »

  1. I’ve never read so much balderdash in my life – and I read the Daily Star!
    This ‘Brigadier’ chappy is neither fit to serve Queen and Country, nor to review fine works of literature like Dame Rowling’s opus. Indeed, if it wasn’t for the Brigadier’s charming lady friend Penelope Squire-Hampton Messerschmidt, I and doubtless many others would suspect that the so-called Brigadier is one of those ‘oh-no-sexuals’ that I’ve heard about indirectly…fancies himself as a Wildean dandy-type, with his tweed jackets and cravats, but ends up resembling a woodwork teacher with delusions of grandeur…small wonder that Terry-Thomas is sueing him. Anyway, I digress…

    It has been brought to my notice that the Brigadier is planning to pen one of those ‘online journals’ that the miles-behind-the-times-media is forever banging on about. Now, I pray to whatever God is in fashion this week that the Brigadier won’t be filling up the internet with ‘pix ov me n’ my m8s out on teh p*ss’, so-called sexy snaps of him in undersized freudian badminton shorts (he resides in Greece, you know – make of that what you will), and replies to comments like: ‘ASL? WANNA CYBER?? KEWL!!1!!’…Heaven help us all if that is the case; I suspect that it marks the end of Western civilisation, and not a moment before time, if you ask me, which you haven’t, but the point holds.

    A letter to The Times may have stopped him in his illicit tracks in years gone by, but today it seems nothing short of an anti-capitalist riot complete with mind-controlling laser beams will prevent these ersatz public figures doing exactly what they bloody well like – so, it is to my great sorrow that I report that Brigadier will almost certainly publish his own ‘blog’ shortly. Doubtless Sky Dramatic News will flash this info across your widescreens as soon as the blog is unveiled, at which point God himself will phone the Samaritans, and culture will crumble here on Planet Earth PLC.
    I await the publication of the Brigadier’s blog with trepidation, and a large brandy – so should you, dear reader…

    Comment by The Field Marshall — April 8, 2008 @ 11:35 am | Reply

  2. Dear Field Marshall,

    Or should I call you ‘Fluffy Bunny’ as I remember the chaps used to call you before you were dishonourably discharged from the Army after that unfortunate incident with the regimental goat. Incidentally, I do hope that you and “Billy Gruff’ are still blissfully happy together.

    Not surprisingly, most of what you write in your vitriolic diatribe against my good person is total and utter codswollop. I say ‘not surprisingly’ as everyone who knew you will remember your frequent and entirely inappropriate outbursts of verbal diarrhoea and your complete dislocation from what normal chaps such as myself would refer to as ’reality’.

    Oddly enough, ’Binky’ Carstairs and I were having a brace of gin and tonics at Boodle’s only the other day when your name came up in conversation. Well, we had a ruddy good chortle, I can tell you, especially when ‘Trumper’ Worthington told us about the time he served under you in the Punjab. I shall spare you the embarrassment of publicly describing a particular event he recounted but no doubt you will recall the episode involving the medical orderly, a variety of lubricating agents and the jar of pickled onions.

    Well, I believe I have expended far more time on you than you deserve so I shall end now.

    Yours with no sincerity whatsoever,

    Brigadier ‘Buffy’ O’Shea-McGregor-Davies
    Royal Tunbridge Wells

    P.S. Your legal chaps will be hearing from my legal chaps forthwith.

    Comment by The Brigadier — April 8, 2008 @ 9:24 pm | Reply

  3. Brigadier Sir,

    I was once give a large pickled onion (To eat, you understand.) by a medicine wallah. Must say I commented to him at the time that it had a strange taste. Couldn’t understand his reply though…

    … suddenly I don’t feel well!

    Pip Pip,
    Bomber

    Comment by Bomber — July 19, 2008 @ 8:29 am | Reply

  4. I say, Bomber, old chap. Splendid of you to drop by and take a shuftie at my Small Column.

    Regarding your unfortunate tale of the pickled onion, it only goes to prove the old adage: ‘Never accept a pickled onion from anyone except a qualified pickled onion wallah’, what.

    Tally ho, old boy.

    Brigadier ‘Buffy’ O’Shea-McGregor-Davies

    Comment by The Brigadier — July 19, 2008 @ 8:55 pm | Reply


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