The Adventures Of Double Om Seven

Double Om Seven: "Do you expect me to talk?"

Auric Goldfinger: "No, Mr. Swamy. I expect you to preach."



"But what is Twatskyism?" you ask.

Well, rather than delve like some cunning linguist, between the sturdy peasant thighs of a discourse on dialectical materialism, it may perhaps be better to point out some leading twatskyites.

A. Raja, for instance, is a twat.
Kalmadi is a legendary twat.
Yeddyurappa is an eminent twat.

As the recent global meltdown proved, bankers are monumental twats.
The governments who used our taxes to pay them bonuses, are twats.
And we, the people who voted them into office, are the original twats.

You'll find twatskyites all over Pg. 3. (In print, and on TV.)

Barkha Dutt, is a hysterical twat.
Ratan Tata, is a successful twat.
The Ambani boys are spoiled twats.
And Bill Gates is the ultimate twat.

Being a twat, however, is not just the prerogative
of the rich and shameless.

I can be a twat. (Just look at this post.)
You, can be a twat. (You're reading this.)
He, She, and They are, in all likelihood, absolute twats.

(And, if they're all members of the same popular micro-blog,
they probably spend all day just Twatting and Re-Twatting.)

Nor is twatskyism one of those chronological inconveniences
like, say, Nehruvian Socialsm. Indeed, with every turn of the
pages of history you'll find a twat or two wreaking mayhem.

Take Hitler, a notorious twat.
Or Mussolini, a horrible twat.
Even Idi Amin was just a hungry twat.

Now, please don't confuse Twatskyism with that 
school of thought named after a famous victim
of the erstwhile USSR's black ops department.

It has its roots dug deep in the rich, fertile soil of
authentic Anglo-Saxon slang. And has achieved
the pinnacle of evolution right here in India,
as embodied by Arundhati Roy.