By Mandy Baldwin.

The question is simple; who is still paying their BBC License tax.

Presumably the kind of person who wants to watch a rehash of a programme which was vaguely entertaining 25 years ago and whose producers have now decided to pay homage to a worthless career criminal who shoved a gun in the belly of a pregnant woman while robbing her home for drug-money and died of a heart attack while resisting arrest for threatening a young Asian shop-assistant who refused to accept forged notes.

Yes: the Brussels Brainwashing C***s have a truly special Christmas Special lined up, at the end of a year in which our every dream has been crapped on from a great height. They have “woke” the Vicar of Dibley.

Vicar of Dibley was set in a rural enclave which was (as most rural enclaves are) entirely “white”, which allowed the writers to freely mock the obese, compulsive eating disorders, the sexually frustrated, the geriatric, the mentally-subnormal, the class-system AND hint at bestiality.

Dawn French, who was also vaguely entertaining 25 years ago, was of course married to the entirely unentertaining Lenny Henry, who spent their marriage cheating on her with other white women and has now been knighted for being black but thinks he is a victim of systemic racism. And as if Dawn hadn’t already spent enough time on her knees, she is about to make an even bigger arse of herself than she did by pandering to racist Henry, who has recently told white people he doesn’t want them to donate money to African children’s charities any more.

The dotty, and entirely white English community of Dibley, whose crimes apart from dottiness are nonexistent, are about to be harangued for being inherently evil – as in, racist – on behalf of a hard-line, violent Marxist group led by middle-class white women, who are so obsessed with race, that skin-colour is the only thing they ever notice about a fellow human.

The flower-arrangers, small-scale farmers, cake-bakers and choristers of a tiny, fictional English village are about to be confronted, not with the real problems they and their loved ones face, but with the non-existent crime of arresting a life-long scum-bag who finally did the world a favour by dying.

Obese and sexually-frustrated Vicar Geraldine, who has taken care to minister to an all-white rural enclave, rather than putting herself forward to work somewhere she would only rarely have to see a white face other than her own – Tower Hamlets, for example – is about to finally take the highly Freudian Curly Wurly out of her mouth and speak to her parishioners: not to offer them spiritual comfort or practical support but in order to convince them that their very existence is a crime and it will be a fine thing if they all drop dead and can be replaced by Somalians.

Vicar Geraldine will spew her message of hatred in the old village church, secure in the knowledge that – because she lives in a rural, entirely white enclave – she will not find herself pursued and beheaded by a lunatic with a machete, nor will she be imprisoned for ‘hate speech’ since, in the hierarchical society such racists as Dawn French and her alter-ego promote, it is perfectly acceptable to treat ordinary, decent white people as fourth-class citizens and grovel to the scum of the Earth in the form of scum-bucket George Floyd, on the basis that he was a black scum-bucket.

Perhaps someone should tell Dribbly Dawn and the BBC that it is illegal to teach Critical Race Theory – ie., hatred of white people – in British schools, for the simple reason that this theory is undiluted racism. As a show timed to be suitable to families, the inanity of Woke Dibley should not be shown before the 9 pm watershed, and those involved should be visited by police to discuss their unpleasant views, prior to taking the showdown: isn’t this the Woke version of free expression, after all?

Everybody outside the charmed circle of self-hating middle-class racists such as Dawn French, already knew that the BBC was unfit for purpose, a hotbed of racism, rampant paedophilia and insane Marxist dogma. But if, this Christmas, you actually watch this dross, and continue to pay your licence-fee, you really need to stop complaining: because THIS obscenity is what you are paying for.

And it’s your choice.