Barack Obama and his disappearing change hat

The Bugle, audio newspaper for a visual world.

Hello, Buglers, and welcome to Bugle number 35 for the week beginning June the 30th, 2008, with me, Andy Zoltzman, in the majestic city of London.

and in New York City.

It's Mr.

John Oliver.

Hello buglers!

I ate bear this week.

I don't want to get into how.

The fact is I ate bear.

I feel I have the power of the bear coursing through me.

I've been misunderstood as cuddly by children.

I've gaunted upon honey and I've chased picnickers up trees.

Yeah well that's no different from your average week John.

Oh that is a good point.

I ate bear in Estonia.

You think you ate it in a sausage.

Well yeah.

But by eating a sausage it's not roulette.

Most of us are probably statistically eating fair at some point.

It's the ultimate raffle.

So it's the week beginning the 30th of June 2008, which means, John, it's 100 years to the second since the Tunguska explosion, when a big, naughty asteroid caused merry havoc in Siberia, impacting the arse out of over 2,000 square kilometers of completely irrelevant land and mercilessly slaughtering 80 million trees.

Since then, John, pretty much nothing from the asteroids, so have they given up the ghost?

Have they seen how effective we are at destroying our own planet and realise that they are wasting their time?

I don't know, I'm not an asteroid.

As always some sections of the bugle go straight in the bin.

This week to mark the year 2008 passing its halfway point at the end of June, we look back to the year 1004.

Pope John XVIII hit the Vatican in a big way that year, and the Bugle investigates, if he were Pope today, would he bother giving mass or would he just do a blog?

And also to Mark Bill Gates advocating the throne of Microsoft, a commemorative audio Windows memento.

Do not crash now.

Do not.

Do not crash.

You f!

You f.

I don't have time for this.

I've got a deadline on eBay in 45 seconds.

That porcelain Bobby Charlton isn't going to f by itself.

Unfreeze you, silicon f.

I'm going to get a fing apple next time.

Was that as cathartic as it sounded, Andy?

Oh, I feel good.

Oh, there's 15 years of research gone into that.

Top story this week, Zimbabwe.

It seems that plucky overdog Robert Mugabe has finally won the Zimbabwe election that he has been ornately rigging like a Spanish galleon for the last month or so.

After Morgansvangeri pulled out in protest and in fear of the lives of his supporters, Mugabe is running unopposed.

He's running against thin air, but he's not taken any chances, Andy.

He's rounded up any thin air that he suspects of disloyalty and has chased large amounts of thin air across the border.

In fact, any piece of thin air which isn't visibly carrying a ZANU PF membership card may be subject to detention interrogation.

You're seeing a lot of membership cards blowing around in the breeze in Zimbabwe at the moment, and that's no accident.

The air there is terrified.

Yes, well, I think even Mugabe's biggest fans would have to concede, John, that through this whole election process, he has acted like a bit of a tit.

And Britain has finally toppled off the fence on this one and taken the bold, ruthless and world-shuddering step of stripping Mugabe of his honorary knighthood.

Apparently we've steered clear of this decisive humiliation for Mugabe up until now for two reasons.

One, for fear of giving credence to Mugabe's accusations that Britain hates Africa.

And two, for fear of anyone noticing that, A, we'd given him an honorary knighthood in the first place, and B, that at no stage of the intervening 14 years of despotic megalomania and human rights abuses have we seen fit to rescind it before.

But better late than never, John.

That's right.

I mean, the world has been slow to react to this situation and even slower to give a shit about this tragically unprofitable human rights abuse.

But Britain did indeed step up this week and laid the smack down upon Mugabe and his goons.

The Queen of England, TM, has taken that knighthood back.

Boom!

Take that, Bobby.

You have just been coin slapped.

How does it feel?

She just dropped the Liz II bomb and it blew up right in your face.

Still don't think Britain's doing enough?

Step forward the England and Wales Cricket Board, which has announced that it has cancelled Zimbabwe's 2009 tour, saying it shared government concerns about the deteriorating situation and lack of human rights in Zimbabwe.

We've brought out the big guns, Andy.

Cricket and the Queen.

Cannons don't come bigger in Britain.

We've done our bit.

Your move, world.

That's right, the Queen will actually officially rescind Lady Knighthood next week.

She's travelling to Harare to perform the traditional denighting ceremony in which she will tap Robert Mugabe on both shoulders with a stale baguette whilst muttering, off out of it, big horse, under her breath.

And also on the subject of the cricket, John, I mean, I think that is disaster for Mugabe.

Because now, without Zimbabwe touring England next summer, he will not be able to use his cricket team as a political pawn, bringing reflected glory to his evil regime by being routinely thrashed by vastly superior, better-trained, and infinitely better-funded opposition players.

To our American listeners who don't follow Zimbabwean cricket, from a sporting perspective, stopping the Zimbabwean cricket team touring England is roughly equivalent to the NFL preventing Emmy Lou Harris playing against the New England Patriots.

Although, I have to say, I would go high on eBay for that ticket.

The MDC says that some 86 of its supporters have been killed and and 200,000 forced from their homes by militias loyal to ZANU-PF.

In response, the government has blamed the MDC for the violence, i.e.

killing and driving from home their own supporters.

Come on, Mugabe, that's not even trying.

That is infantile arguing.

You have killed supporters of my party.

Uh, no, you have.

What?

That doesn't even make any sense.

You're a tyrant.

Oh, am I?

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

What you say is what you are.

Oh, you've got me.

Yeah, poor old Morgan's fangerai must be spinning in his as we record and hopefully as you listen, still empty grave.

But I guess the record books will only show John who won, not how they won.

And Sfanger Eye lost and his complaints now are sounding a bit like sour grapes to me.

Mugabe, in yet another of his hilarious deadpan but searingly ironic victory speeches said victory for us does not mean death for the MDC.

No, no, it doesn't.

Just for its members.

He has no problem with the organisation itself, just those who belong to it.

He's a reasonable man, Andy.

You know, if there is an MDC headquarters, he's fine with that.

He currently has no quarrel with buildings.

There had just better not be anyone inside or near it.

He then went even further by saying, We remain open to discussions with the MDC.

And again, that may well be true, but let's be clear.

These are the kind of discussions that James Bond has with supervillains who have just captured him.

This isn't so much a discussion as a threatening monologue while a laser gets closer and closer to your balls.

Well, actually, I think the MDC have really got to take a long hard bath with themselves on this one John because

they have named themselves very badly the movement for democratic change.

They wanted democratic change.

Mugabe has given them that democratic change and really it's their fault that they didn't specify what kind of democratic change they actually wanted.

And Mugabe has merely changed democracy by basically taking all the letters of democracy out and replacing it with the words dictatorship.

So it does appear that that Mugabe is pretty much a dead cert to win the little anticipated presidential runoff, which has been so named because that's what all opposition supporters are being forced to do if they ever want to walk again.

But apparently, early indications show that many voters have heeded the MDC's call to express their opposition by not voting, leading to fears that once all the votes for Mugabe have been counted up, turnout could be as low as 140%.

Other news now, and stick them up.

Not your hands.

Stick your anti-gun legislation up.

Up where you say?

You're asked.

That's why you need to stick it up.

I think I've made myself clear.

The Supreme Court ruled 5-4 this week, their favourite margin, in favour of overturning the handgun ban in Washington, D.C., which will cause problems in other big cities such as Chicago and San Francisco.

John McCain welcomed the ruling as a landmark victory for Second Amendment freedom.

But the victories don't stop there, Andy.

It's also a huge victory for inner-city undertakers as well.

Congratulations where it's due.

The important thing is the Second Amendment remains as strong as when it was relevant, Andy.

I'll tell you what, it should really be renamed the First Amendment.

What is the First Amendment anyway?

Freedom of speech?

Come on.

No American really uses that anymore anyway.

Not when you can let your gun do the talking.

You got something to say to me?

Say to my two friends, Mr.

Smith and Mr.

Weston.

Yee-haw!

The right to bear arms is, of course, course, defended more vigorously by the US gun fans than by anyone else in the world outside of Australian rules football players.

Do you want to explain that?

Not really, but I will.

They wear sleeveless shirts playing Australian Rules football.

Right, so they

want their arms to be bared, and they believe they have a right to that.

A right, a duty, and a necessity.

Okay, so that's why the joke stands.

Yep.

It's a valid valid joke.

But John, given that the Second Amendment was ratified in 1791, I, as a neutral observer in this matter with no personal political or emotional vested interest in whether more American people shoot each other, I think that a compromise should be reached whereby you are allowed to keep a gun or a militia in your house, but only if you are dressed in late 18th century clothes, hats and breeches and everything.

And also if you're prepared to accept 18th century medical treatment if you do then get shot.

That's a very good point.

That seems fair.

The Supreme Court has not conclusively interpreted the Second Amendment since its ratification in 1791, which, as you say, is quite literally years ago, at least 90 years, possibly more.

I don't think I'm exaggerating there.

The amendment exactly reads: A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.

The basic issue is whether the amendment protects an individual's right to own guns, no matter what, or whether that right is somehow tied to service in a state militia, a once vital, now archaic grouping of citizens.

That has been the heart of the gun control debate for decades.

As long as you can prove you're in a militia, you can arm yourself to the teeth.

Just form your own militia and let yourself into it, and you can have as many guns as the founding fathers never really intended.

I'm basically American now, Andy.

You know, I even eat guns for breakfast.

I mean, that's not quite true.

I use guns for breakfast.

This morning, I loaded a breakfast burrito into my 45mm handgun and shot it down my throat.

Why?

Because it is my right to defend myself from hunger.

So I fired myself a 1500 calorie salute.

Justice Scalia, is that the right pronunciation?

Scalia.

It's Scalia is technically his name, but I mean, I really feel it's worth mispronouncing just to irritate him.

Scalia is a man who I've described before as both an industrial strength penis and a power tool.

And I will add to that list of honours today, Andy, by also describing him as a Pied Piper of wieners.

Nail that to the wall behind your desk Mr.

Scalia because that's yours to keep.

He said the handgun is American's preferred weapon of self-defense because, quotes, it can be pointed at the burglar with one hand whilst the other hand dials the police.

I told you!

I told you!

Pied Piper of Wieners, Andy.

Point-proofed.

But it does conjure up a delicious image, really, doesn't it?

And also, when you think, John, that mobile phones now come with cameras, music players, computers, even, surely the time has come for a mobile phone with a shotgun incorporated in it.

Then you can point your phone gun at a burglar and call the police with one hand, leaving your other hand free for taking a photo to show your friends, making a cup of tea while you wait for the police to arrive, changing the channel on the TV to see if your burglary is live, or playing tennis, or DJing, whatever's your thing.

Just nice to have that extra hand free.

That's what Scalia has not acknowledged though, Andy.

That is that the other hand is not phoning the police.

that's not what it's doing statistically it is probably firing another gun into the air in excitement if it is holding a phone it isn't dialing the police it's dialing randy from next door to come over and join the fun

Scalir went on to say that the justices were aware of the problem of handgun violence in the country.

They are aware of it, just like they're aware of the collective works of Lil Bow Wow.

They acknowledge it exists, but that doesn't mean they give a shit about it.

There's some controversy over the rules that regulate who can get hold of guns.

Currently to get hold of a handgun in America you need to be able to fulfil one or more of the following strict criteria.

Criterion number one, to be able to walk into a gun shop and say the words, can I have a gun please?

Number two, to be able to walk into a gun shop, point at a gun, grunt a few times and hand over your credit card.

Or three, get someone to do criteria one or criterion two for you.

Otherwise, no gun.

Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama straddled this issue like a mechanical bull, saying merely that the court did not find an unfettered right to bear arms and that the ruling will provide much-needed guidance to local jurisdictions across the country.

So he was putting on both his lawyer hat and his I Want to Be President hat there.

Two fairly unattractive hats.

I'm not sure what happened to his change hat, Andy.

I think it must be underneath his I want to be president hat.

I wonder if we'll ever see that change hat again.

I liked it.

I do hope it wasn't just a fad like the von Dutch hats.

Political anniversary news now and Gordon Brown's prime ministership is one year old last week.

Now like most one-year-olds John, Brown's premiership comes up with something shit about three times a day.

And it's a bit of a bit crud, frankly.

It was all going fine until it stopped going fine when last autumn he failed to call an election, making his transfer of leadership from Tony Blair into basically a bloodless coup.

I mean what has he achieved in that year John?

Basically what he's most achieved is managing to be less popular than Blair who was hounded out of office for being unpopular.

And a lot of the criticism about Brown just seems to be that he's not cool.

He's quite dour and a bit too overtly Scottish for a lot of people's liking.

But I think it's odd isn't it that you know we spend a lot of time complaining about Blair being too cool and you know admittedly Blair's reputation has been somewhat tarnished by unfortunate bloopers such as the Iraq War and murdering the Queen Mother.

But the heady days of Cool Britannia and the early years of Blair seem like a mirage now, almost as if they were only ever a publicity stunt to boost the image of a new regime that was already setting its sights on becoming one of the greatest anticlimaxes of the post-Roman era.

Gordon Brown is not cool and he will never be cool, John, and this is entirely as it should be.

He's the fing prime minister.

It's a serious job.

He should take it seriously.

But at least the 4'2 inch PM, he was sitting down when I measured him.

At least he isn't trying to be cool, and I think that's good.

Because whenever politicians stick their oar into the boating lake of popular culture, they usually capsize and end up thrashing around like drowning fish, or making ridiculous comments such as blaming hip-hop music for gun crime, which is essentially equivalent to blaming JMW Turner for stormy seas.

And I can pretty much guarantee that that is the only JMW Turner joke any of you are going to hear this week.

He should take time to celebrate this birthday, Andy, especially his current poll suggests that he's unlikely to ever make it to the grand age of two.

Whenever Gordon turns up to a pollster surgery for an electoral check-up, the news just gets worse and worse.

I've looked at your chart, Gordon, and I'm afraid.

I hope you're sitting down.

These numbers do look terminal.

Oh, no.

How long have I got?

Well, you may be able to hang in there for six, eight months, maybe.

Anything more than that is going to be a miracle.

See this as an opportunity, Gordon.

Live each day in office as if it's your last.

And he's been doing that, Andy, and stealing a great deal of Downing Street stationery.

Premierships are like children, Andy.

It's important to judge them against those of the same age, otherwise, there's no way of knowing how good they are.

And Brown must judge himself against other one-year-olds.

I mean, when Stalin's time in power was still a toddler, he'd exiled all his major rivals.

By the time he was an adolescent, he'd had many of them assassinated, one with an ice pick.

And yet, David Cameron's head remains troublingly intact.

Brown has a long way to go, Andy.

Music news now, and due to a typographical error, the newly non-agenarian African democracy ace Nelson Mandela and his ex-wife Winnie are to sing backing vocals on Soul Legend Martha Reeves' new album.

Martha and the Mandelas will be touring the world from Honda.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

We've all wanted to see it.

It's going to be a mixture of classic soul hits and inspiring speech about the redemptive power of democracy.

The only surprising thing is that it's taken 35 bugles for you to make that joke under.

Your emails now, and last week we challenge you to tell us if you are better than 7 billion people at anything.

And Evan Williams has claimed that he is better than 7 billion people at being better at things than 7 billion people.

Which is

some claim.

I'm not sure if he's got the evidence to back that up.

Well, the important thing is he stuck his flag in it, Andy.

The claim has been made.

And this email came from Sidney Kochman who writes dear Andy and John brackets in order of importance correct due to the fact that the population of the earth will not reach seven billion until twenty thirteen all right all right mr technicality oh okay okay mr maths

i regret to inform you that i'm not better than seven billion people at anything however i think that as a jew i'm better than very very approximately ninety nine percent of the world's population at koveching

all right

Kveching, for those of you who aren't one of God's chosen people, is what Jewish dogs do to gasticks.

I guess you've left a moment's silence there for people to collect their thoughts.

They can separate their life out now the day the world changed.

Sidney continues.

The other 1% being the other Jews, seeing as there are only 13.3 million of us, and our population growth is 0.3%.

Well done on having a kid, kid, Andy.

Now all that you need to do is make John convert, and we're well on our way to changing that statistic.

Yours in complaint, Sidney Kochman.

Unfortunately, Sidney, although I am Jewish, as discussed Pass Im on this show, and not very good at being Jewish, unfortunately, my wife is not at all Jewish.

Another piece of shit Judaism on your part, that, wasn't it?

Just time for a quick hottie from history nomination.

This one's from Michael Schull saying, dear Andy and friend.

I'm getting relegated a lot in these addresses Andy.

Valeria Messalina is a perfect hottie from history.

A Roman empress with the penchant for the naughty.

She was famous for setting up orgies for the upper class.

Believing herself to be the greatest lay in all of Rome, she once challenged a famous prostitute to what can only be called a f ⁇ off.

I'm just there's

There is no way that that's the only way that can be called.

You had options, Michael.

He goes on to say, each of the women took man after man until one gave up.

The prostitute surrendered after they had each screwed 25 straight guys, but Valerina Messalina kept going for another 12 hours.

It is said at the end that she was still unsatisfied.

Soon, she spelt all her nights in a brothel under an assumed name, working for free.

Messalina met her ultimate demise when word got around that she'd finally done the wrong guy, Gaius Silius, who planned on killing the emperor.

She was put to death and dozens of her sex slaves were set free.

When hearing of this, her poor, poor husband apparently replied, Pastor wine.

That is cold.

If this nymphomaniac can't be described as a hottie from history, then perhaps I don't fully understand the concept.

Michael, good sign off there as well.

Well, I don't know, Michael.

I mean, I, for one, and I'm sure a lot of other buglers, like our hotties from history to have a little touch more mystery about them.

You know, we maybe.

You know, we don't want them to give in so easily, you know.

You can't, you cannot imagine Florence Nightingale behaving like that.

Well, you can't.

That's the point.

You can imagine her doing that.

And that's the what you don't want is to actually see her behaving like that.

Then you're right, the whole mystique falls away.

You think, oh, Florence.

Florence, I have to feel that this is a self-esteem issue.

I wonder that there are psychological problems that have led to this pattern of behaviour.

John, what are you suggesting the light brigade were charging towards?

Oh,

happy, Andy.

Happy with that?

You started it.

Sport now.

And it's the sport swimsuit edition.

A revolutionary bodysuit has been introduced for the Olympic swimming events.

There is controversy over the new swimsuit.

Australian and US swimmers and others wearing the Speedo LZR racer suit have set 38 world records since its introduction in February.

Ah, that does sound a little suspicious.

There was one last weekend, John, a world record set by a guy who'd never actually been swimming before.

He just found the suit in a bin, thought it was some women's underwear, tripped over whilst putting it on, fell into a canal and swam 200 meters in 1 minute 42.8 before he got bitten by a swan.

Australian Libby Lenton said it made her feel as if she was swimming downhill.

What?

I don't understand that, Libby.

The chase is now on with competitors.

A rival swimsuit is about to be released which features a propeller on the back and is armed with three torpedoes and a harpoon.

The swimming competitions may be a missable television in this Olympics, Andy.

It's going to be a bloodbath.

Well this is nothing new, John.

Swimmers attempting to gain advantage through developments in their swimsuits.

Ever since Johnny Weissmuller won gold in Amsterdam in 1928 wearing a pair of trunks made out of a live chimpanzee.

The 1984 Olympic triple gold medalist Michael Gross was known as the Albatross, not for his stupidly long arms and 213cm wingspan, but because on the German championships of 1982 he strapped a a live albatross to his back to try and increase his flap power in the 100m butterfly.

He went home with a bronze medal and a dead albatross.

There are concerns that the new Superfar swimsuit will encourage the new extreme sport of shark goading, in which daredevil adrenaline seekers swim into shark-infested waters and start teasing sharks about their overblown reputation as deadly killers, their silly little eyes, and their total inability to run on land.

Quick preview now of the second week of Wimbledon.

In the women's tennis John, I predict that they will all stand at the the back of the courts and thwack the crap out of the ball until one of them gets bored.

And the winner will be the one who gets least bored.

And in the men's, well, it should be a federal and a doll final unless one of them gets gored by a rampaging rhinoceros on the practice courts, or disqualified for mooning the royal box, or gets incarcerated for their involvement in a 1970s Soviet spy ring, or retires from tennis to pursue a career in bookbinding.

Any of those currently seem more likely than either of them losing.

And now a quick preview of the Spain versus Germany Euro 2008 final.

John, I want Spain to win because I like the way Spain play.

Me too.

I think I'm good for football.

Plus, I got engaged in Spain and I love Spanish food, particularly in the north of Spain, really.

I think this siesta is a terrific idea.

If it had been rolled out across Germany a hundred years ago, no, no, that's not entirely fair.

But anyway, I like Spain.

And you know, although I respect Germany as a modern nation and I grudgingly admire the way their football team keeps fluking it into finals, I just can't really support them because of the

yeah, I know it's a long time ago, but

I shouldn't hold it against this team.

But have you seen Bastion Schweinsleiger?

That's all I'm saying.

So I want Spain to win.

When it comes to think up to who I actually think will win, well, John, Spain are clearly demonstrably the better team.

They play the better football.

They're in better form than the Germans.

But the Germans do keep fluking it.

So I wouldn't be surprised if they fluke it again.

And at the end of the day, it could come down to whether the Spanish class and craft in midfield can overcome German muscularity and organisation and take advantage of their lack of pace and central defence, or whether the Germans can fing fluke it again.

I don't care if they're only following orders.

It's not acceptable.

And now, in the section once occupied by the late lamented audio-cryptic crosswords, it's time.

You've grieved long enough, Andy.

Let it go.

Well,

your time of grief has to be over.

Don't go all Queen Victoria about this.

John, the Christians still celebrate Easter.

And once again, in the place of the audio-cryptic crosswords, we have a special Bugle multiple choice quiz question.

The prize for which this week is to tell yourself the Martha and the Mandela's joke again.

Yeah, good prize.

Good prize.

And the question is on the thorny subject of US politics.

And the question is this.

Between what did medium caliber US President Lyndon Johnson claim to know the difference after hearing a speech by Richard Nixon?

Was it A, good and evil, B, chicken shit and chicken salad?

C strawberry milk and human milk, or D, the Beverly Sisters?

Do you know the answer to that one, John?

I don't, Andy, but it's lovely to hear the Beverly Sisters reference.

It was B, chicken shit and chicken salad.

Not that massive a claim, is it?

Well,

you know, I think I could do that, and yet I don't think that's a particularly presidential claim.

I suppose maybe that should be a presidential test.

Maybe they should blindfold McCain and Obama at the first presidential debate and say, okay, here is A,

here is B.

And finally, the bugle forecasts this week.

And the forecast is that there won't be a bugle next week.

I'd like to think of it as a protests about Independence Day, John.

Okay, I'll jump in on that.

Yeah, as Tom, our producer suggested that it should be called Invasion Day, when America essentially invaded Britain, as Britain was then located in America.

And I don't recognise American independence, and therefore I refuse to do the bugle in the week of American Independence Day.

So instead of the bugle next week, there will be an Independence Day special bugle in its place.

I guess that is still the bugle, but it's a slightly different one.

35 asterisk.

So

very much the buried bonds of bugles next week.

It'll be the bugle, but on no performance trucks.

Well, that's it for this week.

Thanks for listening again.

We're going to spend the next two weeks trying to grow up a bit.

Speak for yourself.

Speak for yourself, man.

There's no way.

I've not only I given up on that, but I'm actively refusing it now.

I'm going to see if I can go backwards.

Bye.

Bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

Happy Independence Day, you terrorists.

Hi buglers, it's producer Chris here.

I just wanted to very quickly tell you about my new podcast, Mildly Informed, which is in podcast feeds and YouTube right now.

Quite simply, it's a show where me and my friend Richie review literally anything.

So please come join us wherever you get your podcasts right now.