Monthly Archives: January 2007

A Jaded Comparison

ruth turner, blunkett

David Blunkett speaks on last week’s momentous events in the media 

I have to confess that the events of last week have left me bewildered – totally and utterly gobsmacked.
We’ve all worked hard for little reward to promote compassion, equality and fairness in today’s newly reinvigorated Britain
We encourage individuals to express themselves freely and in public (which, fortunately, makes them easy to identify and lock up).
We support and sometimes contribute to the free press and media of this country.
And we should believe in the the rule of law and have confidence that it is applied strictly but fairly, regardless of most colours, creeds or even class.

So what has so upset me recently? Why have I lost confidence in the media and their interpretation of what is and is not acceptable in 21st Century Britain?

Well, just a few days ago, a campaign contrived solely to create conflict has not only been eagerly absorbed by the porous minds of the liberal chattering classes but by the polluted, off-grey matter of the easily-duped, incoherent, mumbling foul-mouthed classes of this country.

A vulnerable, yet successful, self-made woman with a career that many envy has been hung out to dry in a vicious campaign of smears that could only have been ordered from on-high.
Her plight and discomfort were revealed to all on primetime news programmes here and abroad.
An inconvenient interview was conducted not far from the house (the scene of a supposed trivial crime) and soon it was splashed all over the tabloids, broadsheets and broadloids; TV stations despatched ‘commentators’ (frequently on two verbal warnings and ill-dressed for the inclement weather) to pose in front of a locked door and deceive the public by gift-wrapping falsehoods as facts in their stuttering pieces to camera.
As far as I’m concerned, anyone who bullies and deceives to promote the vilification of others deserves contempt, not congratulation.
This was not, as another stated, just ‘the stuff of movies’ but the stuff of snuff movies.

A media campaign that has been devised by soldiers-of-fortune, reliant on public money, has propagated misinformation and created a scapegoat for a non-crime; a series of incidents has been blown out of all proportion by various media whose common objective is sensationalism and a hoped-for increase in audiences and revenues.
Unlike those for whom I have worked and still hold in high regard, these barbaric ‘executioners’ have wept no tears over the collateral damage inflicted by their insidious campaign.
And it is collateral damage, for the only casualties have been the innocent.
However, this over-used phrase does imply that there was a guilty party nearby to target. And this was obviously not the case.
There will be no mildly erotic, televised executions of the guilty to justify this recent sordid sortie.

In my eyes, this woman has done no wrong and, frankly, is incapable of the deeds for which she stands accused.
She has not been charged by the establishment which instigated the campaign, but by the media which seized on the story and callously spread it far beyond the shores of the now dimmed beacon of tolerance, justice and equality that is The United Kingdom.
The beacon’s once bright glare can only be restored by the immediate replacement of the bulb of justice.
We have brand new 100 watt bulbs of tolerance and equality; I have seen to that, although I frequently exercise my right to use the dimmer switch whenever it suits.

Those who have supported this public lynching can only be driven by an envy so corrosive it sears the heart.
This nation does not require an education in tolerance; it needs repeat prescriptions of Prozac and Gaviscon.

A fine, upstanding woman whose loyalty is frequently displayed in her heroic efforts to protect her peers should not have been treated in the manner which has disgraced our country over the past few days.
Not one shredded piece of evidence of wrongdoing has been found and none ever shall. Of this, I am certain.

My constant companion is acutely aware of the innocent scent of this ‘perfectly nice woman’.
I, and many others, will miss her fragrance should it be removed from society and placed in an overcrowded warehouse of tainted British produce (and cheap, filthy foreign tat before we can send it back to be disposed of).

I despair when I realise what has become of the Metropolitan Police.

My thoughts are with you, Ruth.

David Blunkett

There can be no whitewash…..

Tony Blair, Watergate, Ruth Turner, peerages

EMAP – Just a reminder

Hello EMAP.

Just noticed you visiting my site again, logged your visit and what you downloaded.

Just because it’s gone quiet over the last few weeks doesn’t mean we haven’t been working on our case.

Your solicitors will hear back from us soon.

Don’t exacerbate things by repeating your actions.

Great chieftain o’ the leadership-race – You’re on your own

Scottish Independence, John Reid, Home Office

They eat with their hands……

Danielle Lloyd on Celebrity Big Brother :
“They eat with their hands in India, don’t they — or is that China?……You don’t know where her hands have been.”

No, it’s Britain. Home of the sandwich, apparently ‘invented’ in 1762.

But of course, what separates the Brits culturally from any other country whose population may eat with their hands is the finesse with which some of the more attractive of our country consume their late night fare.
Who else but The Brits can perfect the art of being shagged from behind, balancing precariously, with only a bus shelter for support, while consuming a large doner at the same time.
And who else but the British male can show levels of bravery which allow him to ignore the inherent dangers of asking the same girl for a blow-job, regardless of how much chili sauce his pink-towelling-tracksuited-girlfriend-of-one-hour had earlier demanded be ladled onto her kebab.

Cultural superiority mate.

Blair & BAE, SFO, OECD, SIS & British Justice

The Channel 4 pic from earlier this week :

BAE, Blair, Bribery

Channel4 Newsroom Blog – Link