Discontent Provider

There's little joy at the Happy Place this week - but there is some exciting news for those who are excited by changes to the format of podcasts - hard to imagine such creatures existing, but one never knows... Brace yourselves, cats and kittens: it's all something of a bummer.

2026 seems to have started a tad late for the chaps - but not through want of trying. They emerge from their hibernation to find things much as they were before, however. Sometimes, even a Prime Ministerial Crisis just seems like another wearisome chore, do it not? In other news, Foxy re-encounters an old flame.

Another belated episode, but what can a boy and his dog do? If nothing else, it should be bring a touch of unexpected excitement to a dreary December Tuesday - not that any day of any week is much to write home about these days. Should this come across as jaded or bitter, please just put it down to the chaps' shock and horror at discovering that neither tabloid media whores nor neo-Nazis can be trusted to behave honourably. As you can imagine, it's been a bit of a blow... 

Having skipped a few weeks, the chaps are back at it with some quasi-plausible excuses for their (doubtless keenly-felt) absence. This week finds them deploring their contemporaries' unsettlingly public willingness to shit all over their offspring.

Pagan pranks and pumpkins abound as the chaps in the Happy Place prepare to chill spines, curdle blood, and carefully space out jump-scares as they give themselves over to the undiluted pleasure of The Holiday Special Episode.  Sort of, anyway.

Huddled together in their somewhat chilly autumnal Happy Place, the chaps - who have never exchanged a cross word or bark - find themselves pondering how cats and kittens who are ostensibly on the same page can be at odds. It's probably for the best - the alternative is being a mindless zombie - but at the same time, it's a bit rough on those who believe in a Universal Consciousness. 

A chill that's sharper and more penetrating than anything Autumn can normally provide permeates the Happy Place this week as the chaps realise (with suitable horror) that they are - to some extent and for a moment only - in agreement with a reviled political figure. It shook them, cats and kittens - so much so that reflecting on the casual idiocy and hypocrisy of Humanity was like drinking from a pure mountain spring...

News of moles and questionable decisions by the CPS have the chaps pondering the murky world of espionage this week: is it wot it used to be? Does it matter? Would a blind folkie and a stone-deaf Lurcher make effective secret agents? These (and other questions) are answered this week - and you don't even have to hold bird-shit smeared paper over a candle to find out what's what. 

Foxy unearths a childhood memory courtesy of a President who appears to have trouble recalling what day it is this week. Consequently, the chaps find themselves considering a much-maligned pachyderm, drawing some questionable comparisons, and realising only now - in this very instant - that they missed a chance to make an Ionescu allusion that would have made them look terribly clever and well-read.

The chaps attempt to retain their much vaunted stiff upper lippery in the face of yet another end of the world that didn't happen - although take some solace in the fact that even the wildest passages in Revelation are by far from being the least believable noises being made this week. Better luck next time, eh, cats and kittens?

Battered, bruised, and with their ears ringing from the triumphant bellowing of a Right Wing emboldened by flag-waving and Donald Trump telling them what they want to hear, the chaps retreat to their Happy Place to take stock. In a moment of brutal clarity, the difficulty of striving for a Better World (and the ease of turning it into a smouldering dung-heap) is revealed to them - but they resolve to carry on regardless and hope you crazy kids feel the same way.

The chaps try their hands/paws at the Scientific Method this week by attempting to determine whether or not ignoring reality really can make it go away. It appears that it can't - but sadly, that doesn't seem to matter.

In an episode rendered unfashionably late by Foxy's pretty face requiring medical treatment, the chaps ponder the timeless cycle of Nature and the equally eternal treadmill-like grind of Human frailty and beastliness with particular reference to how quickly awful people will jump to the defence of awful people.

As the baking heat of Summer begins to retreat, the chaps retire to their Happy Place to review the season. TL:DR - they've seen better. They've seen worse too - but what kind of pessimistic scrotes would they be if they lead with that? All in all, it's been no Summer of Love - and small wonder, eh what?

This week finds the chaps taking an unwonted interest in matters spiritual as the Nation is knocked into paralysed indifference by the revelation that neither the PM nor the Leader of the Opposition have accepted Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Saviour. It's potentially a bit of a "Thought for the Day" episode, truth be told - although at least Foxy spares you the inevitable homely anecdote that reminds him of something from the Book of Daniel or somesuch fucking nonsense...

As the chaps settle into the sun-dappled, grassy splendour of their Happy Place, they are comforted to no end to learn that the obvious fiction of geographical boundaries is still widely-respected. Perhaps their little nook will one day earn Internationally-recognised Statehood? If so; get ready for unregulated gambling and a blanket ban on poetry (or any other metaphor-driven art-form). 

With the shells, cluster F-bombs of the Culture War getting dangerously close to home, the chaps - like the despicable conchie cowards they are - decline to participate in the hostilities; instead, they repair to their Happy Place to consider the remarkable prospect of a Donald Trump interview wherein the POTUS seems to be making a genuine effort to come across as only around 20% as much of a dick as usual.

With the crew being once more up to full strength, perhaps it's not to be wondered at that the chaps are feeling a mite cocky. Certainly their attitude towards the Established Order of Things could get them into a spot of trouble at Asda - but isn't that all for the best? 

Due to an injury, Discontent Provider is only about half the podcast it normally is - but one presses on, do one not? No use crying over ... Well; no use crying altogether, really - at least not in some circles. Anyway; all that aside, the Happy Place is the place to be if you're looking for a scholarly appraisal of Labour's First Year in Government.

Summer time, and the living is easy - or so we are reliably informed. Certainly it's not too gruesome a business for anyone choosing to wallow in filth in a shanty-town or tent city for a lark. For those that have no choice in the matter, however, it's all a lot less of an "experience". Small wonder then, that the chaps in the Happy Place are taking a more than usually jaundiced view of things - there simply aren't enough megatons in the world, cats and kittens...

This week presents something of a challenge for you, Podcast Pals - to wit, can you ignore the apparent irony of a strangely-garbed man with a sweet-looking dog who regularly invites people to join them in a secluded sylvan oasis discussing degenerate sexual practices? In fairness, the chaps are discussing more public attitudes to paedophile enormities - but even so, on some level, they have to know what they look like, surely?

Unnerved and unsettled by their unwonted translation from Friday to Monday (even though they have nobody to blame but themselves - and to some extent, the world), the chaps nevertheless manage to - by dint of sheer professionalism and inner strength - remain as soigné and debonair as you'd expect. This week is all about reactions to worsening vibes overseas, and some tentative plans for the future (should there be one).

In a week where all sorts of people seem to be suddenly and unwontedly realising all sorts of things, The Silver Fox has his own moment of stunning clarity - but refuses to talk about it.  NB: Podcast historians and music scholars alike should note that this is the first episode of "Discontent Provider" to feature the Gm chord - so there's that...

Was there something in the air this week? Even before the appalling incident in Liverpool on Monday, Foxy and Arkham were already giving thought to the nation's Mental Health Crisis (although to be fair; it's a global malady is what it is). Perhaps that's why they haven't come up with any tasteless and crass jokes about it? Fortunately, a true Hero of Comedy has them covered - has us all covered, if you think about it...

Tears and beers are the order of the day in the Happy Place as the chaps bid a fond farewell to a true slacker icon. Norm's passing - along with an unpleasant spot of street theatre - provoked some thoughts about the persistence of memory and how it can be a bit of a bugger, all in all.

When things get to the point that living in a radiation-soaked nightmare where every instant is a struggle for survival seems preferable to our current state of affairs, things must be tending toward the grim. The past couple of days, however, have left the Happy Place's two Vault Boys positively wistful about the prospect. Say what you will about drug-addled post-apocalyptic Raiders - they NEVER pretend to be Labour Prime Ministers...

Following a pharmaceutically-enforced hiatus (the sordid details of which are evident from the episode's title, one would hope), Foxy and Arkham return to the Happy Place full of... Well; you're doubtless well aware of the phrase - but two references to bodily functions would be a bit much, don't you think? Anyway; the chaps are back in business - and are ready to tackle Conclaves, codes of honour, and cuntery with their customary charm and equanimity. 

Time almost seems to be standing still in the Happy Place for the chaps this week as the futility of attempting to remain fresh and topical in a world that remains relentlessly gruesome in exactly the same way begins to dawn upon them. Fortunately (for them, at least) reflecting upon ugly malicious pointlessness can't help but remind them of the Royal Family - and if they can't squeeze a podcast out of that shower, they're not the Silver Fox and the Black And White Dog we all thought they were...

Having skipped a week - through no fault of their own - Foxy and Arkham hit the Happy Place with a tad more than their customary gusto, élan, and (dare it be said?) brio. Fortunately, their pent-up podcastular energies encountered no difficulties in finding release. Isn't it simply smashing that so many people are positively champing at the bit to make even the most gruesome situations so much more cataclysmic and ghastly? Obviously not - but it does make providing audio content a doddle. "Every cloud" and all that, eh?

A certain pall of dissatisfaction hangs over the Happy(?) Place this week as the chaps learn that their Favouritest Place In The World could probably be a bit happier. On the other hand, learning that there are still influential public figures who seem to give a shit without a tawdry and commercial ulterior motive did buck them up a bit. Incidentally, while The Song At The End is rarely titled (because titles are difficult), this week's effort simply had to be given a name - it's called "Tatebro's Blues" (which ought to delight those of the twelve-bar faith).

When a pair of fun-loving youngsters have been knocking out this guff for as long as Foxy and Arkham have, it's hard to imagine anything disillusioning them - and neither has it. Even so; the chaps in the Happy Place do experience a touch of surprise this week as they consider just how samey the same-old-same-old can be while considering the Government's latest scheme to "help" the long-term sick and disabled...

The chaps arrive at the Happy Place in good spirits this week following a chance encounter on the bus - but naturally, the good times don't last. Sadly, the latest MAGA offshoot to be imported from the USA (tariff-free though, to be fair) leaves them more than somewhat bummed out. Won't somebody think about those poor, oppressed, straight, white men? CW: The Song At The End is a blues number that contains some inept slide guitar work and a couple of slurs - but how else is one to portray a paranoid White Supremacist dickhead and Shadow Minister? Take slurs away from them and all they can say is "boats" and "Jesus"...

A belated "drop" due to some circumstances that even the chaps' harshest critics would concede were beyond their control. Nevertheless, a couple of days' delay did allow dots to be joined and some pretty arcane and mysterious connections to become apparent - so the Happy Place's resident sages can finally reveal to a waiting world just why the Great and the Good are so dashed secretive. The truth may shock you! Well; it'll certainly depress and infuriate you - but isn't that what this podcast is all about?

An uncharacteristically belligerent motif may be detected by the more carefully-tutored ear this week as the chaps consider the proposition that by following their moral code, they might have become warmongering monsters. Fear not though, podcast pals; it recedes PDQ - to be replaced by the reassuringly familiar tone of despair. Yes; supporting the Right Side can lead one to unpleasantness - but at least few of us will ever be as ghastly and foul as the real wrong'uns...

Love is in the air, cats and kittens - or at least it was yesterday - so this week's episode is a little late due to the chaps' regular schedule being interrupted by a Valentine's Day tryst 'twixt Arkham and a Cairn Terrier called Peggy. The old boy's still got it - not bad for fifteen years old... Hearts and flowers aside, this week sees Foxy and the World's Most Romantic Lurcher illustrating the abject stupidity of being a dick online by ... Well; by being dicks online, really. "Plus ca change...", and all that.

The winter-bared trees of the Happy Place tremble 'gainst more than the chill winds this week as the chaps wax wrath about dishonesty. A stale dish, you might well think - and one that Foxy and Arkham have chewed over many times. Underestimate not the capacity of the Great and the Good however - for this week's teeming tureen of truthlessness is rich enough to render language itself meaningless. On a more sombre note, a harp wheezes its last ailing breath mid-song - thoughts and prayers are appreciated (be though never so useless).

The chaps consider boastfulness, braggadocio, and bullshit this week in the Happy Place (purely coincidental, cats and kittens: this damned thing isn't turning into a dysfunctional, expletive-laden version of "Sesame Street") as somebody's weird actions are called into question and other people steadfastly refuse to examine their own.

It is with faces set and pale that the chaps arrive at the Happy Place this week - for the news is far from spiffing. Well; some of it might be spiffing-adjacent, in fairness - but the long-term outlook is distinctly bleak. Not only do Foxy and Arkham reveal the world of politics' biggest and dirtiest secret (you will be flabbergasted, rest assured), they bring tidings from the Youth that are a mite grim.

This week sees the chaps lamenting the absence of other voices from the podcast while pointing out that in their view (because the right to express any opinion on the internet should be staunchly upheld and should not result in any real-life consequences) one voice is perhaps a little too ubiquitous.

While hysterical speculation and doomsaying grips 't'interweb, the chaps resume their respective positions in their snowbound Happy Place and declare 2025 open for Business As Usual and ponder why more people don't. Needless to say, they come to no conclusion that redounds to the credit of Western Civilisation in any meaningful way. Cheers, cats and kittens - and here's to more or less (preferably less) of the same in the New Year, eh what?

As Foxy adjusts to life without coughing fits that come perilously close to bouts of projectile vomiting - and Arkham adjusts to Foxy's adjustments - the chaps take the easy option by dissecting The King's Speech. It doesn't take long: there was probably more meat in the vegan mushroom Wellington that served as Christmas Dinner. Still; gently does it, eh what?

Foxy is rather under the weather - though Arkham remains full of beans, you'll be happy to hear. Unfortunately for those keen on regular audio content, this minor indisposition has led to an Agonising Reappraisal of personal health and wellness; and thus a difficult decision has been reached that means things are going to be rather quiet around the Happy Place for a while. The chaps will be back soon though - you have their word on't.

A gathering storm of Democracy looks set to sweep away the Old Order, and the Establishment's minions are apparently filling their silken undergarments on the hour at the prospect. Small wonder then that the chaps have sought refuge from the political turbulence that an online petition has wrought upon the Nation in their Happy Place. How will all this shake out, they wonder? Change is a-coming, cats and kittens - or, you know, it isn't...

Having been imprisoned by torrential rain over the weekend, Foxy and Arkham find themselves positively giddy with joy to be out and about once more - and with the Culture War's Sugar Plum Fairy sprinkling discord and stupidity hither and yon, they're even more delighted. Join them for an early celebration of all that's base and cretinous about the pre-Festive Season, cats and kittens - and you too will Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day.

A hectic week of terror, despair, and outlandish conspiracy theories leave the chaps weary, breathless, and more than a little shell-shocked - but ultimately defiant - as they vow to maintain their cataract-blurred vigil on the State Of Things this week. Rather melodramatic, obviously; but if there's one thing this week has taught us all, it's that people do enjoy a scary story - be it the End of the World OR people having to pay tax. Chilling, n'est-c'est-ce-pas?

Some sad news causes an unwonted lack of professionalism today as the chaps in the Happy Place come dangerously close to showing a little too explicitly how the sausage is made. In other news: events conspire to form a metaphor as shitty and half-baked as any the Silver Fox has devised as thoughts turn to World War III - which seems to bother people a bit.

The Happy Place resonates to the unusual sounds of celebration this week as the chaps ponder the downfall of two utter shitehawks who claim - with varying (though damned little) degrees of credibility - to have been touched by the Divine. 

Rarely have Foxy and Arkham retreated to the sanctuary of the Happy Place with more alacrity than they have today: it might be a bit chilly and damp - but at least there is nobody there talking about how tip-top it is that America has found its way back to the path of far-righteousness. The chaps are - but of course - pondering the fatal fascination the 'shroom-schlonged narcissist holds for people on both sides of the pond - and as you can imagine, it doesn't take long to crack that particular conundrum...

(ALT TITLE: In Which The Silver Fox Plucks A Low-Hanging Fruit - And A Plump, Over-Ripe, Orange Fruit At That) With everybody facing horrible choices, Foxy and Arkham are feeling a mite hemmed-in by the inevitable today - but still find it within themselves to not only podcast, but to do an unexpected and unprecedented Monday Song. Well; they might not get the chance to serenade Donald Trump again - hopefully.

As the ghouls and monstrances of Hallowe'en recede back to the Poundland nether-hells from whence they came, Foxy and Arkham repair to the Happy Place to consider superstition, tradition, and the untenable position into which so many claim this week's UK Budget has placed them - including the Budgeter. They're too modest and self-effacing to have said it out loud - but their pride in not having resorted to any "Trick Or Treat" phrasing is, if you listen closely as palpable as it is justifiable.