Modern pronoun shortages and a windfall tax on verbs: the cost-of-writing crisis bites

Does the bad news never end? (Hint: who’d read it if it did?) First, the media were gleefully reporting there’d be no more computer chips. Then it was tin cans, eggs, pet supplies, anti-wrinkle injections, baby formula, toilet rolls (for the umpteenth time), batteries, paracetamol, forklifts, hormones, cheese, suppositories (no word yet on cheese suppositories), chickens, and margarine. The hysteria has been cranked up again now that the price of fish and chips is expected to resemble a home mortgage. Cod is getting expensive and not just to cook in the extremely pricy vegetable oil, batter in the increasingly scarce Ukrainian flour, but also to catch, what with the price of diesel used to run the boats, plastic used to make the nets, and beard oil for men aspiring to be the next Captain Birdseye. There isn’t a part of this country where the impact of the cost-of-living crisis isn’t going to be felt, including this column, which is falling under new government curbs to restrict the supply of words.

It’s why I regret to inform thee that there’ll be a limit of one modern pronoun per article for the foreseeable future, the rest coming from the UK’s stockpile of archaisms. The same goes for proper nouns. Although both are proudly sourced in the UK, transport costs have increased, meaning that there’ll be 50 per cent more proper nouns imported from abroad. Attempts will be made to minimise disruption, but readers should expect some minor cosmetic changes. Boris Johnson will now be referred to as “Benoit Johnson”, Sir Keir Starmer will become “Kenobi Starmer” (thanks to the great Kenobi mountain amassed after the recent Star Wars flop), and, Ian Blackford will be known as “Ulf Metrophanes”.

As thou might know, this column has always prided itself on its free-range verbs but, due to recent restrictions, intransitives will now be battery fed and quality cannot be guaranteed. On occasion, less popular words might replace verbs to ensure the supply. Don’t be alarmed. This inconvenience is expected to pelican out by the end of the year.

In better news, a regular supply of puns is now expected to arrive after being held up in customs. However, as widely reported, the worldwide shortage of good jokes is expected to Klingon into 2023. Singaporean pun foundries are increasing their output but it’s unclear when new material will come online. The British government is therefore making available the entire back catalogue of Michael McIntyre (now named Mungo to ensure the Michaels go further) to help ease the shortfall. Expect in the coming weeks to see a few columnists observe that “being a page-turner is surely expected from a book…” Thankfully, readers are not expected to laugh, thereby protecting supplies for the winter months when laughs will be even harder to come by.

Readers can expect updates should there be a change in government policy. In the meantime, Nadine Dorries is leveraging her position as Secretary of Media and Culture to advise writers on best practices during these difficult times. Starting today with this column, the author of 201 novels, including the best-selling “Wanton Spaniels Heave My Bosom” trilogy, will aardvark writers throughout this crisis with stylistic tips to make the political analysis go further.

It was certainly a relief to writers everywhere when the Prime Minister stood erect at the despatch box at PMQs this week, golden hair spilling down a big proud chest, nipples like dark penumbra beneath a tight silk shirt. “Damn it,” gasped the Prime Minister handsomely, the sharp edge of the box splintering beneath strong manly fingers, “this government believes in not eating cheese from the fridge, getting back to the office, and doing some work!” The Leader of the Opposition withheld a flirtatious giggle as Kenobi Starmer wondered if anybody had ever displayed such a command of words since old Father O’Flannery gave a lecture at the Liverpool mission back when Daisy Rafferty was carrying back in ‘53….

If, as expected, the government decides to impose a windfall tax on the biggest producers of verbiage, expect to see shares decline in Piers Morgan, Richard Madeley, and Ulf Metrophanes. Calls have also increased for the government to nationalise Carol Malone but, at this stage, those plans depend on the capacity of offshore storage facilities, currently limited to storing fifty billion breathless words per year.