WikiLeaks - Wales responds

Wales "enjoys" WikiLeaks report of corruption, violence

Text of report by Welsh official Taffinfform news agency

Boyograd [formerly Cardiff] 1 December (Taffinfform): Welsh government spokesman Griff [Gruffydd ap Gruffydd, fab Gruffydd] reacted with customary bemusement to revelations on the WikiLeaks website about levels of corruption and imaginative violence in Welsh official institutions.

"These revulations has totally and utterly come as a surprise to us, and to me, though but," he told punters in an impromptu press conference at the Martyr Dr Phil Williams Memorial Institute of Tantric Studies, Boyograd.

The WikiLeaks publication of tens of thousands of classified US State Department cables included a number of oddly stained pneumatiques from Burlington Arcade III, ambassador [extraordinary and plenipotentiary] to Wales, in which he set out his views on the Cymru Rouge administration and Wales in general.

"Graft is so much a way of life to these people that, after only six months in the post, I find myself slipping the police escort 300 dwris just not to taser me on the can [Welsh currency: 100 tans to the dwri. One dwri = 2 cents or a roofing slate. Can = American toilet].

"Extortion is never nearly enough. It only counts if accompanied by menaces, often of an outré sexual nature.

"I raised the question of kickbacks in military procurements with Defence Minister Anffawd [Iago Anffawd, fab Sieffre Siomedig, fab Gwil Goll]. Have any of you boys at Foggy Bottom ever been keelhauled around a coracle? I guessed not. Item - they're round. It never ends.

"They gave me 30 minutes with a 'fat bird from Carmarthen' then used me as a rudder. We got as far as Lundy [former English island in the Bristol Channel, now used by the Welsh Army as a underwater political prison and weapons testing range] before I agreed to drop the matter."

"We's never heard of this fucker or his so-called, soi-disant America," explained Griff. "We denies these hackersations, and disasorcerates us selves from whatever's going to happen to him in the next week."

"And," he added.

Political analyst John Osmond of the exiled Institute of Welsh Affairs, Chester, said much of the confusion can be attributed to two factors, nomenclature and not really giving a shit [Welsh: malu ffwc ddim].

"The Cymru Rouge manifesto dealt with the traditional Welsh blights of corruption and violence by simply reclassifying them as 'The Economy' and 'Public Relations' respectively. Investment from Eastern Europe and the Middle East seems to have vindicated this policy so far, and complaints from the allegedly late Ambassador Arcade are unlikely to change that," he expanded.

Asked about the current whereabouts of Burlington Arcade III, spokesman Griff feigned indifference to reports of a pair of ambulances bearing the US envoy to the Martyr Shakin' Stevens Cosmodrome, Abergavenny, after a freak accident at the unveiling of the Newport transporter bridge and noyade.

"You might well think that; I couldn't possibly comment," he quipped, "largely because I's monged on 'shrooms, see. But a fiver might get you the audio track of a rocket launch tragedy."

"We didn't eat him," he added.

Source: Taffinfform news agency, Cardiff, in Welsh 0058 gmt 1 Dec 10

Scenes from a Pedantic Hard-Boiled Novel

Exiled pedagogue Matthew Ward once proposed a two-fisted actionfest to the BBC, based on the sort of wish-fulfilment even Robert Fisk enjoys. His synopsis ran thus:

"TEFL teacher in Latin America joins the Cymru Rouge, rises through the ranks and is eventually sent as ambassador to Rutheria with his Ukrainian spouse, where he gets involved in cachaça-induced japes and sinister episodes of physical and mental torture. Maybe Timothy Spall would take the lead? I imagine a twenty-first century Citizen Smith meets Zorra Total."

My response as his agent was to aim higher and sketch out a trailer:

Sod the BBC, that's got Hollywood treatment written all over it:

"(Rumbling Voice, over Rio scenes): Far from the Copacabana (cut to snaggle-toothed peasant riding a goat in a top hat) deep in the forests of Ruthenia, there's monkey juice that needs drinking (close-up of cachaça bottle slamming down on a table surrounded by sweaty men in ill-fitting uniforms).

"And here's the mouth that's going to do it (crash-zoom from across a cellar deep into the throat of a screaming man tied to a Medieval dentist's chair).

"(Clanging noise over smoky screen, with male silhouette slowly emerging) Sean Penn is MC Ward.

"(Unhinged woman, stomping towards camera) Helen Lederer is his made-up scary Ukrainian wife who's nothing at all like Mrs Boyo.

"(Gurning thugs yell in close-up) Keith Allen, Ray Winstone and Ralph Brown are the population of Ruthenia, in..."

I took my 12% and, at Madame Boyo's Hegelian insistence, let The Dialectic do the rest.

Three years later to the day, I've come up with the High Concept.

What makes Matt Ward different to other sheath-rending action heroes?

• Eastwood is carved from teak
• Jack Bauer is Dick Cheney in a wig
• Monk is a mental

So what's Ward? Why, he's a middle-aged English teacher. So let's work his innate pedantry into the script. There's an untapped audience of librarians, Liberal (not Liberal Democrat) Party activists, jazz afficionadoes and mildly autistic teenagers to tap.

So here's some sample dialogue:

(LA police precinct, a uniformed cop hustles the standard pair of remonstrating whores past an office where some sweaty men in bad suits are discussing their new boss)

Detective 1: So, what's this Ward guy like?

Detective 2: Lootenant Ward's the kinda sonofabitch who'll rip off your prick and shove it up your ass.

Detective 1: Holy Shit!

Ward (striding through the door in horn-rims and elbow-patches): Correction, gentlemen. I am indeed the kind of son of a bitch who'll rip off your prick and shove it up your ass. But then I'd notice that the prick in question had become flaccid from loss of blood, and therefore impossible to shove up any ass without assistance. So I'd take a stick, and I'd use it to work your prick up your ass. I'd take a prick-sticking stick to stick your prick up your ass - capeesh?

Detectives: Sir!

Will there be more in the next three years? Like the French Revolution, with me it's always too soon to say.

Honi soit qui mal y ponce

I'm sure that you will join me and all of Wales, man and beast, in conveying our best wishes to HRH Prince William and Miss Kate Middleton on their impending honeymoon in the Rhodri Morgan Memorial Caravan, Mwnt, before they settle down among the Turnipmen of Anglesey.

This is a particularly happy event for me personally. As attentive readers will know, one of my obligations as Cotsengi and Hereditary Ostler to the Court of Senghenydd is to break in prospective royal brides. My predecessor, Sir Dai Llewellyn , had a pop at the grooms too, but that was Sir Dai all over. Big heart, among other organs, and no stranger to the optics.

This time round I can honestly say that I'm looking forward to discharging my duties, and not just because Princess Katherine's pile at Bucklebury is only a 20-minute drive from my place. I could fit her in one lunchtime and still have time for a swift couple of jugs of Champion's Freckled Johnson down the Tethered Goat before heading back to my desk.

The more pressing matter, however, is what title HM The Queen is going to bestow on Prince William once he becomes a real man. Suggestions from my colleagues include Duke of Newport-Gwent, Lord Barry (although I think that's been reserved for Mr John), the Torch of Wood, and The Real Lord Kinnock. The Welsh Assembly might then have to legalise polyandry again so that the prince could add Baroness Kinnock to his harem. Lucky boy.

Myself, I propose a more radical solution. HM The Queen should strip Prince Charles of the title of Prince of Wales and give it to William. The explanation would be simple:

"Sorry, Charles, but William's earned it. He has a normal-shaped head, he chose his own wife first time round - and without her being married to anyone else at the time, either - and he doesn't talk to the foliage. Enjoy Cornwall, it's lovely this time of year. As they say in Benllech, ciao for now."

Can't say fairer than that.

Any respectful suggestions for alternative titles are welcome in the comments box. They must be royal, and Welsh.

Hwyl!

Cymru Rouge Royal Protocol Department

Year One, Anno Gwylimae

Gwae y Cayman

A pronunciamento from the Prif Sasiwn of the Cymru Rouge (Commissariat of External Relations and Instant Rebuttal):

So! Once again, the expressed will of literally millions of ordinary, working-class men, women and children, poor-to-middling peasants, discharged policemen and revolutionarily-inclined students has been thwarted by the machinations of International Capital and its ten-fingered hirelings!

The Learned Elders of the Intern Net have spurned the inherent right of all Welsh to have a domain name ending in '.cym'. Instead, they have added insult to ursury by granting this domain name to what we gather is some sort of crocodile.

The Cymru Rouge has long supported the dotCYM campaign, if only as a means of compiling our list of suspiciously-literate Welsh for the slate-quarry pioneer battalions, and would have put the banner on our website if we'd been able to work out the html code.

To put some sort of big fish ahead of Wales is little better than giving preference to the so-called English and their Scotch masters. In light of this farsighted attack on our stealth acquisition of the trappings of statehood, we, the Rouge, hereby proclaim a boycott of the Intern Net, the Web Ring and all forms of the Ram.

This boycott is mandatory for all Cymru Rouge cadres and any other Welsh.

In the spirit of not making things worse for ourselves for once, we have commissioned the University of Central Meirionydd (formerly Compute 'R' Us, Eldon Square, Dolgellau) to carry out a study of Intern Net use with a view to mitigating any economic and social damage the boycott might cause.

The findings of the study are as follows:

"Former Vice-President Al Gore of the United States invented the Internet (sic, passim) as a means of conquering space by environmentally more tedious means than firing rockets full of scientists at it.

"President George W Bush saw little virtue in either pursuit, and so the Internet remained empty until some Dutchmen found it and filled it with porn.

"This was the Golden Age of the Internet. Since then use has decayed, and the current inventory of Internet content is as follows:

• 89% porn
• 4% pictures of cats
• 4% people blaming Israel
• 2% German cannibals seeking dinner dates
• 1% the Scaryduck publishing empire
• 2% creative accounting."

On the basis of this, the Cymru Rouge has devised a reach-around so that any patriotic Welsh can achieve his goals without entering a modem. We have categorised the above categories into three categories:

1. Porn, pictures of cats, and people blaming Israel. A girlfriend from Newport, incontinent aunt and television licence will suffice.

2. German cannibals. We assume that anyone who wants to be stuffed in a Pfälzer Saumagen will have already bought the one-way ticket on the Kürten Express by now.

3. Scaryduck. Media projections suggest that Scaryduck will acquire controlling shares in all British newspapers, commercial radio stations and works of fiction by 2015, so sit still and all will be well.

5. Creative accounting. Over half of all legally employed Welsh are involved in this industry - Wales's second largest - and are therefore exempt from the Intern Net ban in the workplace. Instead they will be expected to undertake an indefinite strike in support of our cause.

For the plutocrats who control the Intern Net, the pressure will be unbearable.

As for dotCYM, we applaud their continuing campaign and suggest that they now demand total and utter control over the domain name '.ll'.

Henffych!

Paul Pot - Brawd Rhif Un
Huw Samphan - Brawd Rhif Dau
Ta Moc Tudor - Brawd Rhif Tri
"H" (out of Steps) - Groyw loyw
Prif Sasiwm y Cymry Rouge.