...a unity of eyes and firelight...

Fneremy Fnunt

In NHS, Politics on February 12, 2014 at 9:46 pm

I managed to get inside the Rt Hon Fneremy Fnunt’s head recently. This is what I found.

I say, that Polly Toynbee has a nerve, doesn't she? [What's that? She writes for the Guardian? I bloody well should've known.] Those leftie loonies, don't they have anything better to do? Didn't they get the memo? COMMUNISM FAILED, LOSERS! Oh, they'll never learn, those ruddy Guardianistas. Do you know what I call that journalistic blight on our beloved British soil? They call it the Guardian. I call it the Guardian. I mean the Grauniad. The Grauniad. Yes? Get it?

Fnar fnar.

Anyway, how dare she call me nefarious when she's the one named after a parrot? (And we all know how evil parrots are.) I mean I'm the one trying my damnedest to make something of this country and my first stop is the NHS. Well, second stop actually. First stop was the Olympics. Yes, that was me. Me me me. I did the Olympics. Me. The Olympics were me. And you saw how good they were. [Didn’t you? Where the fuck were you?] So when the nurses said they didn’t like old Andy, Dave gave me the NHS. It’s mine now. That’s the problem with success you see, when you’re super successful (like me), you just earn yourself a bigger, harder job.

 

Like the NHS. Now there's a bloated beast. She employs over 1.4 million people. That's more than the Red Army. Booooooooo, hisssssssss, down with the reds. [What do you mean, “Stop it”? Oh I'm only joking old sport, I love those commies really, lolz. They may be terribly misguided but their hearts were in the right place, weren’t they? Weren’t they? Oh. Who said that? Govey?! But state control of the public imagination is exactly what he… never mind, I shan’t ever understand that old fruit.] Anyway, that many people employed by the state, that's a recipe for disaster, isn't it? Look at what happened to the USSR! What we need is competition between different providers of care. That'll push costs down and standards up as we've seen happen in all walks of life since the dawn of capitalism.

Why Polly and her minions fail to understand this, I do not know. They just refuse to accept that the cold hard world of providing healthcare to the masses can only be bettered by the introduction of the profit motive. Much as I would like to change this, it's money that makes the world go round, and the faster doctors and nurses accept this, the faster they will be able to adapt to...

[Eh?]

Oh yes, sorry. No I don't mean the profit motive. I got confused, I'm sorry. They're not caring enough. Caring. Yes. We need culture change. We need to incentivise them to care more. [What? That's wrong too? Are you sure? Train them to care? You expect me to say that? It's bloody nonsense.]

Fine.

Yes, what we need in the NHS is a new culture. The culture is the problem. The problem with the NHS is the culture in it. So we need to change the culture. It is the culture that we must change. We need to indoctrin...[STOP INTERRUPTING ME! If you want to do the talking then go ahead, bozo… Chocolate? And poppers? For me?... I do like poppers… Oh ok, I’ll do it your way, since you asked nicely.] We need to re-educate nurses to be nurses again, you know, to really care about their patients. Too often now we see nurses not caring enough, and it reminds me of that time at the Olympics when that black man won that race and then ran around with the big eyes. Now he really cared. And do you know why he cared? Because he was sponsored by Virgin. And because he was at the greatest Olympics of all time. And guess who was responsible for them? Yep, you guessed it. Moi. But anyway, unlike nurses, he cared. (Just to clarify for any of you that are a bit slow, what I am saying is that nurses do not care about their patients. I mean do not care enough. They might care, but I want them to care more.)

Just like I care about you. And your health. Especially your granny's. I really care about your granny. With her little leathery hands and her purple pantyhose, clinging to her oedematous legs. Her lovely, lovely legs. Look at those lovely legs, see how they swell. Is that pitting oedema up to her umbilicus or is it a stairway to heaven? [Stop there? Is that enough you think? I was just trying to add a bit of the personal touch, you know, like when Haguey said he used to drink 14 pints a day. You think it’s creepy? Do you who I am? I did the bloody Olympics! That was me, you know! ME! Fuck Sebastia… Did you say poppers? WHERE?!]

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