SORRY about de lack o' communications over de past fortnight, world, only I bin up Algiers wid de Non-Aligned Nations Conference an' couldn't get to a nib, wot wid de free nosh etcetera, every time you look roun' someone bungin' a sheep's eye in front o' you, also de booze flowin' like water an' we spendin' a lotta time pokin' in de gutters fo' delegates, helpin' one anudder to de loo, teachin' de Cuban mob de words o' Nellie Dean an' so forth, an' I ain't had a moment to put de deep thoughts together.
It a damn good conference, all in all. Dis Non-Aligned lot is where you want to hang de hat, if you gits de chance; ain't like de Commonwealf bunch, everybody in de grey pinstripe an' drinkin' de slimline tonic an' spendin' all day discussin' a lotta crap about de tariffs etcetera. Us Non-Aligneds knows how to let de hair down, swimmin' in de Med. knockin' back de Boofs, chattin' up de local talent, an' so forth, befo' gittin' down to de serious business, such as who we gonna screw nex' for de tasty seven-figure sums? Dat de whole point o' bein' Non-Aligned; it mean you up fo' de well-known grabs, it indicate you ready to start Alignin' soon as someone puttin' up de requisite foldin' stuff, it show you a political sophisserticate wot bin aroun' a bit an' know how de world working. Dat de reason I keepin' on de Israeli paratroop wings, wot I notice bin receivin' a lotta attention in de world press, also in Madame Fatima's Fun Palace An' Grill, where I havin' to punch one or two other clients in de mouf on account of dey takin' me fo' de Chief Rabbi. De whole queue quietenin' down, however, soon as I showin' 'em de Victoria Cross, de attrackertive American cellular underwear wid de lurex CND motif, de Russian boots, de French Foreign Legion kepi, an' de 9mm German Luger wot I keepin' by me at all times fo' medicinal purposes. Everybody soon gittin' de idea dat I a truly committed Non-Aligned, specially when I settlin' de bill in Zloty travellers cheques an' leavin' a handsome yen tip.
O' course, bein' Non-Aligned also got one or two problems when it come to doin' de conferrin' an' justifyin' de liberal expenses, an' dis de main reason why we spendin' a lotta time away f'om de conference table. Soon as someone say: "Wot about China then?", all de distingerwished colleagues goin' "Hum" an' "Dat a damn good question, possibly" an' "I passin' dis roun"' an' "Mus' be tea-time any minute now" an' sim'lar, on account of no-one wot genwinely Non-Aligned fancy committin' hisself on de controversial subberjecks. Say de wrong thing about Red China an' you git home to find de US Phantoms bin crated up an' shipped out again, or de bank manager had a unexpected run on de rouble an' shot hisself, or de Mongolian technicians all pulled out on de last bus an' lef' you wid half a bridge hangin' over de river an' a railway line wot stoppin' in de middle o' de Presidential palace swimmin'-pool, dat de kind o' thing wot gittin' Non-Alignment a bad name. De whole trick o' Non-Alignment bin summed up in de immortal words o' Bre'r Rabbit: "Jus lie low an' say nuffin'."
Dat Uncle Remus coulda bin a big political force, if only he could of learnt how to git de spellin' right.
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