NOTW, News International and the Future

Right from the moment the News of the World's position became untenable (it was all that stuff about Milly Dowler, if you're interested - you can't create lynch mobs against child abusers and child killers then be perceived to be hacking into the phone of a missing child and potentially disrupting the ongoing police investigation) I knew that News International would somehow survive. I just wasn't quite sure on the source of my certainity. Part of it, I suppose, is the sheer size of News International. Here, NOTW is an iconic brand and a clear money-spinner for the company, but it is not the only highly successful brand that the Murdochs own. But that alone was not enough - I knew there was another reason. And then Murdoch Minor closed NOTW. That was it - that's what, if anything, will ensure the longevity of News International, not just through this scandal but well into the future. The Murdochs are prepared to be utterly ruthless if they have to in order to make their business survive.

Will this apparently bold, sweeping action be enough to slow down or stop the damage being done to the Murdoch empire? Well, we live in the era of symbolic gesture politics, so I suspect it might be. It doesn't matter that the Sun on Sunday (a tagline for NOTW if ever there was one) is waiting in the wings. Nor does it matter that Andy Coulson is currently having his collar felt by the long arm of the law. No, what matters here is that News International can claim that they have taken bold, decisive action and the closure of an iconic, if largely repellent, paper backs that up. It won't matter than they could, and should, have lanced this boil a long time ago.

And if it doesn't work? Well, Coulson's been (rightly or otherwise, and I think it will probably be shown to be the former) fed to the wolves, and I don't doubt that the Murdoch clan will be happy to sacrifice others if the situation demands it. Brooks has, for reasons that defy understanding, been protected thus far, but she should be under no illusion that her head will roll as well if Murdoch needs it to.

But whatever happens, this scandal will peter out with News International wounded, but only on the surface, and the Prime Minister embarrassed - at least until the next time the utterly awful Leader of the Opposition opens his mouth and attempts to communicate with the people he wishes to rule. Very little will have changed. Journalists won't be hacking your phones anymore, but that won't stop the less ethical ones among their number finding a new way to fuck you over. And, as DK points out, nothing happening right now will change the fact the state and its employees can invade your privacy when they want and with seemingly very little in the way of negative consequences (for them at the very least). So all I can say, in what is becoming a mantra for this blog, plus ça change plus c'est la même chose.

Journalists: Do Your Job

Like everyone else who doesn't slavishly believe that that everything the failing Leader of the Opposition does is solid gold (should any of them still exist), I had a lot of fun laughing at that Ed Miliband interview. Come on, you know the one I mean - the one where he comes across like a political speak-your-weight machine, unable to change what he is saying in any meaningful way. For Ed Miliband, spin is king, and he doesn't mind coming across as an unthinking, arrogant bore in order to get his facile soundbite across.

But there is a wider problem here, and it is revealed in the journalist who conducted the interview's own words:

If news reporters and cameras are only there to be used by politicians as recording devices for their scripted soundbites, at best that is a professional discourtesy. At worst, if we are not allowed to explore and examine a politician’s views, then politicians cease to be accountable in the most obvious way. So the fact that the unedited interview has found its way onto YouTube in all its absurdity, to be laughed at along with all the clips of cats falling off sofas, is perfectly proper.

Afterwards, I was overcome with a feeling of shame. I couldn’t look him in the eye.

But before I dried up completely, and had to be led out of Westminster with my mouth opening and shutting, I had an opportunity to ask one last question. I had an urge to say something so stupid, so flippant that he would either have to answer it, or get up and leave. `What is the world’s fastest fish?’ `Can your dog do tricks?’ `Which is your favourite dinosaur?’ But, of course, this was a pool interview, and I had no wish to feed out the end of my television career to Sky and the BBC.

I realise now, of course, the perfect question to ask, to embarrass him and to keep my job. I should have asked was whether the strikes were wrong, whether the rhetoric had got out of hand, and whether it was time for both sides to get round the negotiating table before it happened again.

Because that was the only answer I ever got.

In a sense, he's right - if journalists are only allowed to get soundbites from politicians, then politicians cannot really be held to account for what they believe and what they propose to do/actually do. But who can avert this, I hear you ask. Well, journalists. They should man the fuck up and actually interview people properly. Ed Miliband just feeding you the same, banal line? Well, call him on it. Say that's what he's doing, and ask him to actually answer the questions you put to him. Yeah, he might get hacked off and he might not want you to interview him again. But at least you will have done your job, and your company will have evidence of Ed Miliband - soundbite man. Yes, it might be difficult and yes, it might be uncomfortable. But seriously, if you are looking for an easy profession, you chose the wrong one my friend.

On Anonymity

DK has dealt rather nicely with Andrew Marr’s simplistic and clichéd take on bloggers – go read the whole thing for a wonderful slap down of Marr’s nonsense. However, I wanted to add my own thoughts on this subject and in particular, some observations on anonymous blogging. On this subject, Marr writes:

"Terrible things are said on line because they are anonymous. People say things on line that they wouldn't dream of saying in person."

First up, I’m going to have be pedantic – this blog is not anonymous as such – its author employs a pseudonym, exactly as is the case with many similar blogs to this one. Sure, you may not get the full name of its author on each post on this blog, but you do get the right to comment on what I write and to contact me via e-mail. Which, generally speaking, is more or less the same as you get on many blogs where the authors use their own names (other than the real name, obviously.)

Now, it is a myth that those who blog under pseudonyms are shadowy individuals who closely guard their real identities. In fact, their online monickers are often easy to circumvent. For example, Guido Fawkes, DK, and Tory Bear use online nicknames – but you only have to spend minutes on Google to find out what they are actually called. Furthermore, those who don’t necessarily have their names on their sites are not necessarily hiding – it is just that their blogs maybe haven’t reached the point where someone either wants to find out their identity or they appear on a more mainstream media outlet that reveals their identity.

Furthermore, in my experience, bloggers are actually quite a sociable bunch who are more than happy to meet in real life and share their identities, thoughts and ideas. When I’ve met with pseudonymous bloggers, I haven’t found them to be shady types desperate to hide their identities. Generally, they say hello, give their names, and then ask whether you want a pint (a question to which the answer is always, in my case, yes). Indeed, through my contacts with other bloggers I can guess at the identity of some of those I haven’t met. I’ve never met Mr Eugenides, for example, but I could take an educated guess at who he is just by the friend suggestions that pop up on Facebook.

And let’s slay the myth that using a pseudonym to blog is always an advantage. In fact, Marr’s attack shows the opposite is true. It is easy to dispel that notion that some named bloggers adhere to the cliché tritely trotted out by Marr – you only have to look at the sites of Charlotte Gore or Sunny Hundal to see that they are not the type of sad dweebs that Marr attempts to paint bloggers as. Whereas when you look at this site, you don’t necessarily get a feel for who I am and what I look like. Sure, I could change that by putting my name and a picture on here (something I lack the intention and interest to actually do) – but my point is that having a pseudonym is not the get out of jail free card that it is sometimes made out to be as people can launch attacks on me (and others like me) because of the pseudonym.

But all this is not getting down to perhaps the most pertinent, and controversial, point. Does using a pseudonym make it easier to launch unpleasant attacks on other people? That’s a difficult one to answer, so I’ll rephrase the question slightly – would I use a phrase like “worthless cunts” (a tag on this blog, fact fans) if I was meeting someone face to face and they knew who I was?

The simple answer is – yes I would. But only if they deserved it. Which is rather the point as far as I am concerned. I don’t call my friends or those I meet on a day-to-day basis “worthless cunts” or “witless morons” because they don’t act like “worthless cunts” or “witless morons”, and at most they mildly inconvenience me rather than wrecking the whole country. However, I’ll happily refer to Blair or Brown both as such on this blog and in real life because they have done a lot to fuck up this country and to earn those particular highly offensive tags. The point is that I don’t verbally attack others because I use a pseudonym – I do it because I believe those people deserve to be insulted for what that have done to damage this country and its citizens.

Finally, those who want to be truly anonymous tend to be those who comment on these blogs as, well, anonymous. The rest of us – whether we use our real names or a nickname – are a disparate bunch of people who just happen to be using online media to make our voices heard. The fact that we might not advertise our actual names or always say what others want us to say doesn’t mean that we can be dismissed using the fallacious and clichéd attacks unleashed by Andrew Marr and his ilk.

Blindingly Obvious Statement of the Day

From the coverage of the latest execution in the US:

Maria Glod of the Washington Post said Teresa Lewis had a ''fearful expression'' shortly before her execution

Holy fuck! Imagine that! An intellectually subnormal person facing death at the hands of the state had a fearful expression just moments before she was put down like an animal. Who'd have thought it, eh?

Modern British Politics: Gossip

So, what have we found out about politics today?

1. Tony Blair didn't get on with Gordon Brown: No, really? Blair and Brown didn't like each other? Fuck-a-duck that is news, isn't it? Except it actually isn't. Because we've known about this for the best part of the decade - Blair's confirmation of his difficult relationship with Brown proves nothing other than what we already knew.

And it isn't just about the lack of novelty - there's another reason why it is largely irrelevant for the future - neither Blair nor Brown represent the future of politics in our country. Neither of them will ever be Prime Minister - or even a high-powered elected politician - again. This is just watching a soap opera that has gone well past its prime.

2. Hague's adviser quits: So, someone has been forced from a job because of sly, often borderline homophobic, innuendo. And, as a result of that we've learned of the personal tragedy of the miscarriages that have befallen the Hagues. I can entirely understand why they wanted to keep this private, and I cannot understand why this needed to come into the public sphere. Except that it is a desperate attempt to end what I can see is just groundless speculation abut Hague's private life. Of course they didn't want to reveal this; of course, under the duress of prattling tongues, they had to.

And in the meantime, our politicians get away with continuing to do and say next to nothing about our future as a nation. They get away with having no ambition, no plan and no ideological commitment whatsoever because at the first sign of some titillating, controversial or in any way gossipy, the media works themselves up into a furore about it and we, the consumers, blindly accept it.

So the next time you wonder why Cameron, or Clegg, or whoever gets to be Labour leader, is so shallow, PR-obsessed and light-weight, remember days like these. When all we seem to want form our politicians is to be entertained, like vacuous viewers of the world's slowest, dullest, but most long-running, soap opera. If we want the calibre of our politicians to change, we need to change it. We need to redress the balance between personal and private, and we need to remember that the only meaningful litmus test for our politicians is what they do in power, rather than with their colleagues or in their private lives.

Because this is the truth - the politicians we get we deserve.

3 Non-News Stories

Today is one of those special days where nearly every "news" story makes me shrug in broad apathy. Let's take a look at some of the highlights:

Think-tank states a Tory budget is not progressive: So the fuck what? You could probably find another Think Tank that says precisely the opposite. Hell, you could probably find one that sees the budget as the best thing that has ever happened to anyone ever, and another one that thinks precisely the opposite. It is all meaningless anyway, since the word progressive means nothing. Literally, nothing. It is a word that lefties use as a shorthand for "we like this", nothing more. So just imagine that - left-wingers not liking the Tories. Crazy, eh?

Woman puts cat in bin: Ok, that was a pretty shitty thing to do, but let's keep our sense of perspective here, people. Its a cat. It is ok. Basically, this story is saying that people are shitty and cruel sometimes. But there are much better examples of that in human history. The 1994 Rwandan genocide would be a good example. As would the Beslan school massacre. As would... well, you get the point.

John Cruddas backs David Miliband for Labour Leader: So one charisma bypass backs another charisma bypass in the barely fought race to be the person to lose the next election for the Labour party. How can this really be a news story? The only possible newsworthy outcome of this union of non-entities would be if these two people met in the same room and quite literally sucked all the life out of it through the tedium created by their utterly unhistoric meeting.

Today is yet another indictment of the 24/7 news cycle, where tedium is spun into being news despite not really being interesting on any level.

Starsuckers

Starsuckers is a film by the same chap who made the excellent Taking Liberties. I thoroughly recommend the latter film; it is the type of piece that can make you very angry at just how our civil liberties have been frankly shat on under the utterly spurious idea of the "War on Terror". However, Starsuckers is different. It's a film about the manipulation of the media by corporations to sell products, and about the lack of balance against the messages proposed by these corporations. It is also about how celebrities have devalued democracy, and the dangerous implications of what happens when celebrities become experts.

As a result, it isn't a very good film. For several reasons.

Firstly, the director was railing against the lack of balance against the messages protrayed in the media by large corporations by... making a deeply unbalanced film. The director's (for he was at the screening and took questions after the film) argument that if people wanted balance then they could just go and read the mainstream media did not stand up to close scrutiny. If you want balance in journalism, then you should lead by example and create balance in your own work. Starsuckers isn't balanced at all; it a furious polemic. Don't get me wrong, I've nothing against furious polemics - this blog is full of them - but you shouldn't attempt to claim such polemics as journalism or anything other than biased commentary on the modern world. It is counter-intuitive to the point of stupidity to make a completely unbalanced film about the lack of balance.

Secondly, the film also made a lot out of the fact that newspapers would print unsubstantiated - or to put it more brutally, made up - stories. Which would be more shocking if we weren't talking about the tabloid end of the newspaper world and if the stories concerned weren't minor ones about celebrities. So what if the newspaper managed to get stories about Guy Ritchie juggling and Sarah Harding reading quantum physics into the gossip columns of tabloid newspapers? These stories hardly change the world; in fact, you forget about them as soon as you have read them (if you are interested enough to read them in the first place). I'd be far more inclined to be worried - and, indeed, interested - if these were the front page stories of reputable newspapers being made-up and phoned in. Unfortunately, they weren't. And it doesn't follow that stories printed as gossip in trashy sections of trashy tabloids being faked means that the major news stories in better newspapers are faked as well. The film seemed almost inclined to dismiss all journalism based on the actions of some gossip columnists writing largely irrelevant stories.

Furthermore, the whole thing felt like the content of the film - that corporations want to make money from you and will try to manipulate you in the process - was meant to be a massive revelation. And, of course, it really isn't. I've known about this for about as long as I can remember. I know there is bias in the media, and I deal with it. Nothing in this film actually surprised me beyond the apparent naivete of the production team, since all of this seemed to be coming as a total surprise to them.

Let's take an example. The film presented a negative side to both Live Aid and Live 8, and expected me to be surprised that the events weren't both total successes. Sorry, guys, but I don't really remember a time when I didn't think that both events were deeply flawed to the point of being worthless. The director's assertion that Geldof's version of the events - that both were resounding successes - has largely been unchallenged is simply not true. You can find alternative voices to the mainstream media. You just have to go and look for them.

Which leads me nicely to my main objection to the film. It seemed to suggest that we were all dumb and unable to work out these tricks of manipulation for ourselves. In some respects, it took an almost typically left-wing view that people as a whole need a wiser person to point out the reality of the world to them. Perhaps I'm being naive, but I have a greater faith in the intellectual capacities of most people. I think they will see through the lies, manipulations and distortions presented by some media outlets, and understand why those distortions occur. They will also understand that a celebrity is far less likely to have anything meaningful to say on many subjects than an expert in that field. We don't need a film like Starsuckers to point this out to us.

And this is the film's biggest problem - it comes across as patronising. It states the bleedin' obvious like it should be a complete surprise to us, and then expects us to swoon in awe-struck admiration at these crushingly self-apparent revelations. It almost seems to think that we're all too stupid to understand the world around us. I don't think that's true. But the upshot is we end up with a deeply cynical film that believes itself to be far more impressive and important than it actually is, or is ever likely to be.

On Raoul Moat

Anyone looking at any of the British news outlets today will probably clock that the story of the meathead gunman Raoul Moat has ended. And it has ended in a deeply predictable way; like many of his monstrous ilk, Moat has not died in a hail of bullets fired by his pursuers, but rather by a self-inflicted gun wound and in a miasma of self-pity.

This part of the BBC news report made me raise my eyebrows though:

A guest-house owner, who did not want to be named, told the BBC: "He actually said, the one thing that sticks in my mind, 'I haven't got a dad'... and he also said that, 'nobody cares about me'."

Clearly Moat hasn't been catching up with the news - the downside, no doubt, to being on the run in a forest - because as far as I can see many people have cared about him this week. Every news outlet has been running multiple stories - about the hunt, about Moat as a person, and about what might have caused his attempted killing spree. Sure, people might not have cared that much about Moat's well-being, but every media outlet in the country did at least seem to care about what was happening.

And for the life of me I struggle to understand why. After all, the constant reports of the hunt for Moat are hardly the most fascinating of stories (we don't where he is, we don't know where he is, still no idea where he is, nope - no news on where he is, police have found him, he's dead). And it isn't really in the national interest either; the only reasons why anyone should have been concerned about Moat's shooty tendencies was if they happened to be a police officer in the Newcastle area or a resident in Rothbury. Otherwise, you were always going to be pretty safe from Moat. Furthermore, for a gunman on the run, Moat was mercifully poor at killing people - he tried three times and only succeeded once. The one successful slaying is a tragedy for the man's friends and family, but compared to the actions of others who go out killing with a gun, Moat's 33% success rate was pretty inept.

So why all the attention on this figure? His handsome good looks? I think we can dismiss that. No, I do believe that the only reason why our media spent so much time on this story is because they believed people wanted to hear about it. Which is utterly depressing. What does it say about a country that they want to revel in the hunt for a lethal, failed human being? Why do we want endless speculation about his motives? Why do we want graphic footage of the aftermath of one of his attacks? Are we really so base and so prurient that we have to see the video on the BBC website of this oaf's death?

The sad thing is that for a lot of the British population, the answer to that last question is "yes". Because while there is something innately brilliant about human potential, there is also a baser, darker side to the way we interact with each other. There is a sense in which we want to revel in the misfortune of others, and smugly note from relative safety that "there but for the grace of God go I". We also want to hear about the monsters - we want to hear about their monstrous acts, and like the reassurance when they've been caught and/or killed. And we want to smugly feel that we are better than the likes of Moat. Whatever our flaws, we're not as bad as this particular man.

To some extent, this tendency has always existed in humanity; it's just with the 24/7 news cycle the tendency becomes impossible to miss. What we've seen over the past week is the tendency of some people to rubber-neck at a car accident magnified on a national scale. It happens; to deny it is to be very naive. But that doesn't make this truth any easier to swallow, and if you're anything like me you'll end up feeling depressed not only that the likes of Moat exist, but also about the way many people respond to something like Moat's killings and the subsequent hunt for him.

The Tendency of the Daily Mail: Hate-filled Homophobia.

Some readers may be aware that my old mucker the Moai and I used to run a blog called The Daily Mail Tendency. It was dedicated to showing just how awful that rag is. Unfortunately, we simply could not keep up with all of their ignorance and hate-mongering. In fact, most days it was next to impossible to choose which article to focus on. Yet The Daily Mail has surpassed itself. It has published an article so filled with ignorance, hate and an utter lack of anything even approaching logic that I just have to comment on it - albeit here rather than on the Tendency. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the now famous Jan Moir article on Stephen Gately's death. You can tell just how awful it is going to be by the title: A strange, lonely and troubling death . . .

The news of Stephen Gately's death was deeply shocking. It was not just that another young star had died pointlessly.

It isn't often that a death really has a point. In fact, I struggle to think of any occasion when a death truly had a point. Except, you know, for suicide bombers. Who die to make their point.

Through the recent travails and sad ends of Michael Jackson, Heath Ledger and many others, fans know to expect the unexpected of their heroes - particularly if those idols live a life that is shadowed by dark appetites or fractured by private vice.

You'd be forgiven, on reading that paragraph, for thinking that Jackson and Ledger died in exactly the same way. Of course, they didn't. They didn't die in the same way or even at the same age. And it is a truly base mind that sees lives of talent - that Ledger and Jackson undeniably led - in terms of their tragic demises.

There are dozens of household names out there with secret and not-so-secret troubles, or damaging habits both past and present.

Robbie, Amy, Kate, Whitney, Britney; we all know who they are. And we are not being ghoulish to anticipate, or to be mentally braced for, their bad end: a long night, a mysterious stranger, an odd set of circumstances that herald a sudden death.

Actually, you really are being ghoulish if you are waiting for someone to die. Jan Moir, you aren't so much rubbernecking to watch the car crash, you are say on the side of the motorway willing the car crash to happen. You are like an ineffectual Carrie White, wanting disaster to happen to someone else to make you feel better. Their bad end is your prurient, odious spectator sport.

In the morning, a body has already turned cold before the first concerned hand reaches out to touch an icy celebrity shoulder. It is not exactly a new storyline, is it?

What, famous people dying in the night? Of course it isn't a new story. Gately isn't the first celebrity to die in the night! And it isn't a "storyline" either. It is a personal tragedy for Gately's family, for fuck's sake.

In fact, it is rather depressingly familiar. But somehow we never expected it of him. Never him. Not Stephen Gately.

No, of course not. No-one ever expected Gately to die. He was always going to be the immortal member of Boyzone.

In the cheerful environs of Boyzone, Gately was always charming, cute, polite and funny.

A founder member of Ireland's first boy band, he was the group's co-lead singer, even though he could barely carry a tune in a Louis Vuitton trunk.

I look forward to Jan Moir's debut single, where she proves that she is the greatest singer in the world, ever. Maybe she can release I Will Survive, in tribute to her now hopefully moribund career. I mean, even if you thought Gately was the worst singer ever (he wasn't) then this isn't really the time to have a pop at him as a vocalist, is it?

He was the Posh Spice of Boyzone, a popular but largely decorous addition.

I hope Posh Spice sues. I would.

Gately came out as gay in 1999 after discovering that someone was planning to sell a story revealing his sexuality to a newspaper.

Although he was effectively smoked out of the closet, he has been hailed as a champion of gay rights, albeit a reluctant one.

Right, so, Gately was smoked out of the closet by someone trying to sell his story to a newspaper. Now, correct me if I am wrong, but Moir works for a newspaper that would have no issue with buying a story about a star's private life. Besides, the clue is in the word "private". That is what Gately's private life - and death - should have been. Fucking private.

At the time, Gately worried that the revelations might end his ultra-mainstream career as a pin-up, but he received an overwhelmingly positive response from fans. In fact, it only made them love him more.

Good on the fans.

And given Jan Moir's odious, homophobic response - sadly typical of the piss awful rag she writes for - to Gately's death, I can entirely understand why Gately wanted to keep his private life private.

In 2006, Gately entered into a civil union with internet businessman Andrew Cowles, who had been introduced to him by mutual friends Elton John and David Furnish.

Last week, the couple were enjoying a holiday together in their apartment in Mallorca before their world was capsized.

To summarise - Gately was part of a couple who met through friends, and sadly he died on holiday with his love.

All the official reports point to a natural death, with no suspicious circumstances. The Gately family are - perhaps understandably - keen to register their boy's demise on the national consciousness as nothing more than a tragic accident.

Given there is no evidence - unless Moir has some sort of unlikely form of divine omniscience - that this was anything other than a natural death, of course Gately's family are keen to register it as a tragic accident. What the fuck else would they do? Why in their moment of terrible, jarring grief would they want to add further, false drama to this sad death?

Even before the post-mortem and toxicology reports were released by the Spanish authorities, the Gatelys' lawyer reiterated that they believed his sudden death was due to natural causes.

Whereas Jan Moir - who seems to know fuck all about this incident beyond her own pathetic yet glaring prejuidices - seems to think that her opinion counts for more that Gately's lawyer before the post-mortem and toxicology reports are released. Fucking hell, she must have some awesome sources. Or else she is just making this up as she goes along.

But, hang on a minute. Something is terribly wrong with the way this incident has been shaped and spun into nothing more than an unfortunate mishap on a holiday weekend, like a broken teacup in the rented cottage.

Oh. My. God. Could the deeply held homophobia been any clearer? A rented cottage? A rented cottage? I actually feel a bit sick at the levels of ignorance, malice and spite spat out by Moir in that sentence. It is utterly, utterly odious. Something is terribly wrong. With Jan Moir.

Consider the way it has been largely reported, as if Gately had gently keeled over at the age of 90 in the grounds of the Bide-a-Wee rest home while hoeing the sweet pea patch.

The sugar coating on this fatality is so saccharine-thick that it obscures whatever bitter truth lies beneath. Healthy and fit 33-year-old men do not just climb into their pyjamas and go to sleep on the sofa, never to wake up again.

Yeah, of course, because no person in their thirty-third year has ever died before. In fact, people only ever die when they are old. The sad fact is, for people who live in the real fucking world (somewhere Moir only seems to have the most limited connection with), people do fall asleep in their thirties and never wake up again.

Whatever the cause of death is, it is not, by any yardstick, a natural one. Let us be absolutely clear about this. All that has been established so far is that Stephen Gately was not murdered.

How does Moir know the death was not a natural one? Really, how does she know? Because logically, she knows no more than the next person. The only reason why she might think this death wasn't natural is because - as this article shows - she thinks Gately's life was not natural. Because she is a nasty little homophobe.

And I think if we are going to be honest, we would have to admit that the circumstances surrounding his death are more than a little sleazy.

After a night of clubbing, Cowles and Gately took a young Bulgarian man back to their apartment. It is not disrespectful to assume that a game of canasta with 25-year-old Georgi Dochev was not what was on the cards.

If we were going to be honest, we'd - Moir included - have to confess we all know fuck all about this death. But that would rather ruin Moir's article, wouldn't it?

And it is disrespectful to assume. I could assume that Moir is disappointed that Gately was gay because she fancied him and wanted him all for her own. But I won't assume that. Because it is disrespectful.

Cowles and Dochev went to the bedroom together while Stephen remained alone in the living room.

What happened before they parted is known only to the two men still alive. What happened afterwards is anyone's guess.

In other words, Moir is forced to confirm that she has no idea what happened before or after Gately died. But that is not going to stop this fucking pathetic creature painting those events in the worst way possible, filled with pregnant innuendo.

A post-mortem revealed Stephen died from acute pulmonary oedema, a build-up of fluid on his lungs.

Gately's family have always maintained that drugs were not involved in the singer's death, but it has just been revealed that he at least smoked cannabis on the night he died.

Nevertheless, his mother is still insisting that her son died from a previously undetected heart condition that has plagued the family.

Right, so Gately died on a build up of fluid in his lungs that may have been a genetic complaint - according to his mother, who probably knows about such things. Yet Moir knows better than his mother, and throws the word cannabis in there for to terrify The Daily Mail readership who equate cannabis with something lethal like smallpox. For those of us who are a little more rational, let me posit a relevant question - what the fuck does cannabis have to do with Gately's death?

Another real sadness about Gately's death is that it strikes another blow to the happy-ever-after myth of civil partnerships.

Really? How? I mean, no-one ever died in a heterosexual marriage, did they? And every heterosexual marriage is beyond reproach. What a load of fucking crap. This death shows nothing other than a man died who was married to another man.

Gay activists are always calling for tolerance and understanding about same-sex relationships, arguing that they are just the same as heterosexual marriages. Not everyone, they say, is like George Michael.

It is true. Not everyone is like George Michael. I think we should all be grateful for Moir pointing out this beyond obvious comment. Where would we be without morons like Moir to point out the fucking obvious?

And same-sex relationships are the same as heterosexual relationships. Except bigots like Moir hate the former, and mindlessly venerate the latter.

Of course, in many cases this may be true. Yet the recent death of Kevin McGee, the former husband of Little Britain star Matt Lucas, and now the dubious events of Gately's last night raise troubling questions about what happened.

What the hell does the tragic suicide of McGee had to do with the natural death of Gately? Oh, they were both gay. Not that Moir is focussed on their sexual orientation, of course.

It is important that the truth comes out about the exact circumstances of his strange and lonely death.

And Moir's article does one hell of a lot to cloud whatever truth will emerge about Gately's death, with it's mix of unfounded innuendo and crass, ignorant assumptions.

As a gay rights champion, I am sure he would want to set an example to any impressionable young men who may want to emulate what they might see as his glamorous routine.

As a gay rights champion (if he was actually one), I'm fairly sure Gately would want to scream obscenities in Moir's face for being such a maladjusted, hate-filled wankstain. And what would people emulate from Gately's "glamorous routine"? Going on holiday? Dying? Because most people are going to do both at some point. Including Moir.

For once again, under the carapace of glittering, hedonistic celebrity, the ooze of a very different and more dangerous lifestyle has seeped out for all to see.

Or to put it another way, the "ooze" of the homosexual life.

Can anyone really see Moir writing this heinous article or The Daily Mail printing what is a vicious attack on a recently deceased man if that man wasn't gay? This is slandering a dead man. It is utterly, compellingly, and nauseously wrong against every available parameter. This article sums up entirely why The Daily Mail Tendency existed, and just how fucking awful that paper is.

On Polanski

Even though I have really tried, I can't help but notice all the kerfuffle about Roman Polanksi getting arrested. Normally, an elderly, confessed statutory rapist being arrested would be the cause of media satisfaction and endless articles talking about how justice has finally being done. Instead, Polanski's arrest has caused a whole host of protests from people who really should know better. The Filthy Smoker details some of those protests over at DK's place - and deals with them using his customary forensic, detailed counter-arguments (and sweary insults).

I've little to add, but this is my understanding of Polanski and his crime:

• He confessed to statutory rape
• He fled before he could be sentenced
• Therefore he has never been punished for his crimes
• He has made some popular and acclaimed films* both before and after confessing to statutory rape.

The fact that he committed his crime decades ago doesn't change the fact that he still admitted to it, and has yet to be punished for it. Had he not fled all those years ago, whatever punishment the court was going to give him would have been served long ago and he wouldn't now be facing his punishment as an old man. He chose to flee, and as a result he is suffering for it now. I struggle to feel anymore sympathy for Polanski than I did for Ronnie Biggs - another man who fled justice only to have to pay his debt to society as an old man.

Ultimately, this isn't about the talents of Roman Polanski. It is about justice. If justice is blind, then it should also be able to ignore someone's filmic canon. Polanski's status as an acclaimed film director is magnificently irrelevant; the issue here is his rape of a 13 year old girl. And he should be treated no differently to anyone else who raped a 13 year old girl.

*I've seen remarkably few of them. For what it is worth, I though Rosemary's Baby was pretty good. But not good enough to excuse the director of statutory rape.

Stuff I don't care about Number 1,286

Pope Benedict XVI is to visit Britain in 2010, the BBC has learned.

Oh. And this is one of the big stories on the BBC News website for precisely what reason? Yes, I know there are several million Catholics in the UK. But does that really warrant the attention being given to an old man who has a penchant for wearing dresses and who used to be in the Hitler Youth coming to the UK? For some - probably a minority - of those Catholics, this is a BIG DEAL. For everyone else in the country, this is the sort of non-story that simply distracts attention away from just about everything that it newsworthy. Even fucking reality TV.

You might just get away with this being a headline in 2010, when the Panzer Pope actually hits these shores. Until then, it is a storm in a teacup. No, wait, that's too impressive. It is a fart in a teacup.

Could this be The Sun's idea of the best news story ever? I mean, it has got sex, lesbians and underage fornication all at the same time. No doubt it caused some sort of meltdown in an editorial meeting as the paper simultaneously wished to denounce this woman as a terrible paedo at the same time as wanting to get as many salacious details into their article as possible. It wouldn't surprise me if they considered one of those photo story articles that they use on their problem pages (you know the ones - they tend to involve a woman/women in their underwear for at least two frames out of three) before deciding that might just be a little too much, even for them.

Fucking Hitler

I'm not easily shocked, but I do have to concede that this advert made me raise my jaundiced eyebrows just a tad. By the way, it is definitely NSFW.

Of course, it has attracted controversy. Partly because some may associate those suffering from AIDS with mass-murderers, and also because it doesn't really show how to prevent contracting HIV and AIDS. But for me, the ads should be very effective. If only because the concept of Hitler or Stalin having a hump is a real passion-killer.

Obviously not the Mayor of Baltimore

Alex Hilton has written an explanation of his little joke that has created such controversy. It makes for a good read, if only because it shows just how no-one should have fallen for this joke. It appears the intention was to be a mild rebuke for Chris Grayling. Although the end result of this little jape seems to have been anything but embarrassing for the Tories.

What Hilton has done is simply - and accidentally - turned what was a mildly embarrassing comment by the Shadow Home Secretary into something that has embarrassed vast swathes of the left-wing media and blogosphere in this country. Instead of exposing the hyperbole of Chris Grayling, instead Alex Hilton has shown the naked eagerness of left wing journalists to print anything and everything that might in anyway discredit a Tory. Even if the story does actually stand up to even the most basic of fact-checking.

Hilton writes:

And if any part of this bit of fluff made you smile, or made you critically analyse a politician's hyperbole, then it achieved its aims.

Well, it did make me smile. If only because it highlighted that fact that the left-wing media have nothing useful to report on - like constructive policies that could make a difference in Britain. Instead, they are grasping at bit of straw - or fluff - that could be used in any way to discredit the Tories. Regardless of Hilton's professed aims for this joke, I can't help but think that he can't be tremendously pleased with the way it has turned out. Against any available parameter, this little jape has ended up being a massive own goal. He wanted to expose the Tories; instead, he did much to show up the left wing at the same time as getting on the wrong side of many people he needs - as a Labour PPC - to get support from. Nice work, Alex. With you out there, the Labour party doesn't need enemies.

The Wire, Midsomer Murders, and the Nu Labour Journalists Who Will Print Anything

This story makes me laugh. A lot. So many journalists so easily fooled by a basic hoax. One wonders what Recess Monkey wanted to achieve with this; I guess he has shown that left-wing journalists will print anything if they think it embarrasses the Tories. Although quite why he would want to show that is beyond me.

Guido details some of the reasons why no journalist should have been caught out by this story:

The fake press release was riddled with clues – the British spelling, the jokey references and of course the copyright notice at the bottom (R Monkee Esq).

For me, though, the clearest clue is in the choice of programme. Midsomer Murders. Does anyone really believe that the Mayor of Baltimore - who has real problems of her own - sits at home watching that pile of sub Agatha Christie trash? It is a massive leap of faith to believe that she knows or cares what the Shadow Home Secretary of the United Kingdom thinks about her town. That she should care enough about Grayling's comments to research John Nettles' post Bergerac career should stretch credulity well beyond breaking point.

Esther Rantzen's Electoral Crusade.

Can you see what's missing from Esther Rantzen standing in Luton South? It isn't the fact that she might lose badly  - I couldn't care less whether this ends up being a failed vanity exercise. Besides, she might win. After all, there is a precedent for that. And it isn't that she herself is the sort of person who sets my teeth on edge - although she is just that sort of person. But rather, it is the fact that her standing is completely pointless. 

Her campaign pitch appears to be this - she's not Margaret Moran. Whilst I have no time whatsoever for the moronic Moran, I'd also have to point out that the Tory and Liberal Democrat candidates in the Luton South constituency won't be Moran either. Sure, the Tory and Lib Dem parties have been implicated in the expenses scandal as well. However, what about the UKIP candidate? The Green candidate? Hell, even the BNP candidate won't be Margaret Moran, and the BNP - despite their many heinous flaws - aren't locked into the expenses scandal. And if LPUK field a candidate, then a party formed partly in outrage at the expenses scandal will also be running in that constituency. All these people who - like Rantzen - aren't Margaret Moran. But who actually have an ideology, and a further point for running. Unlike Rantzen. 

The Opposition in the House of Commons has very little chance of limiting the impact of a strong government. Independent MPs have very no chance whatsoever of impacting on a strong government. So even if Rantzen was elected to Parliament, she wouldn't achieve anything. Just as Martin Bell had, on balance, sod all impact after entering the Commons in 1997. 

History shows that, more often than not, a vote for an independent - particularly a media darling like Rantzen - is a wasted vote. Not just because they might not win. But also because they achieve fuck all if they are elected. That's what's missing from Rantzen's bid for election in Luton South. 

The point.

More Swine 'Flu Hysteria

I've never really understood news sources that spend so much of their time warning their readers that they could be about to die. Personally, I don't want to spend half my life reading about what infections could, in theory, kill me. Clearly some people do, though, as the media is droning on about swine 'flu being the end of everything with mindless repetition. 

The latest update in apocalyptic infection comes via Yahoo news:

Chief Medical Officer for England, Sir Liam Donaldson, said figures being used by the NHS to plan its services show that a 30 per cent infection rate among the population could possibly lead to 65,000 deaths.

Scary figures. Although even the most basic read of the paragraph shows that a lot of that is hypothetical. If 30% of the population are infected the 65,000 people could die. Likewise, if 40% of the population are infected, then 13 people could die. And you end up with a fun game of mindless predictions. Here's my go: I predict that if 23.7% of the population are infected, then swine 'flu might come round to your house uninvited, drink your beer, diss your mother and look at your kids in a funny way. 

The one certainty in life is death. I'm sure I'm not alone in thinking that the life that goes before that certain death would be a whole lot more enjoyable if we didn't have to read endless hysterical articles about theoretical threats to us with tedious regularity.  

Phone Hacking... *Yawns*

Try as I might, I can't get too excited about this 'phone hacking scandal. Yeah, it seems to be seedy, shameful and distasteful. And as such, exactly in keeping with the News of the World. Besides, the 'phone tapping is against the law. So no doubt the police and the CPS will act, if there is grounds to do so. As the UK goes to hell in a handcart, I struggle to get too worked up on behalf of some politicians and celebrities who have had the New of the Screws invading their privacy. 

I'm also not that worried about Andy Coulson. I don't necessarily think he should resign - for what it is worth. These sins were committed before he became Cameron's media manager, unlike, say, the sins of one *Mister* McBride. But really, I don't care that much about who is Cameron's spin doctor. If Coulson has to seek alternative employment... well, it isn't going to make any real difference to me. 

Finally we have Prescott belly-aching about how he might have had his phone hacked. This is John Prescott - the man who was Deputy Prime Minister in one of the governments that worked so hard to erode the civil liberties of almost everyone in this country - and he has had his privacy invaded. Well, boo-fucking-hoo. Listen closely, Prezza. That is the world's smallest violin. And you can guess who it is playing for. 

We are all going to die!

Of like, a bad cold or something.

There is nothing the media likes more than whipping up a paranoid storm about some coming apocalypse. Be it terrorists, dirty bombs, suitcase nuclear weapons, war, nuclear war, cyber-terrorism, flesh-eating bugs, serial killers, evil clowns* - whatever the ruddy fuck the end of the world of the moment is, you can bet there is something that is going to come and fuck you up real bad.

Today it is swine flu - presumably a porcine version of that Avian flu thing that never really took off despite the hype. And looking at the coverage in the media, you'd imagine that this swine flu really is going to create the end of everything. Certainly, it has had its moments in Mexico, as the dead there would be able to attest to (if the dead could attest to anything).

Except, it isn't actually that scary:

Symptoms of swine flu in humans appear to be similar to those produced by standard, seasonal flu. These include fever, cough, sore throat, body aches, chills and fatigue.

Sounds a lot like... well, 'flu to me.

And there is basic stuff that you can do to try to prevent coming down with pig flu. Like this:

It is also important to wash your hands frequently with soap and water to reduce the spread of the virus from your hands to face or to other people and cleaning hard surfaces like door handles frequently using a normal cleaning product.

And in fairness, you should be washing your hands anyway. If you aren't then you are a bit a filth wizard to be honest.

Of course, I could be wrong. But I suspect this will turn out to be a contagious epidemic that bloats column inches with mindless speculation, rather than a contagious epidemic that ends everything. Ignore the shrill tone of a lot of the coverage, and instead look at the worst case scenario. You might get 'flu.

A pisser, but it isn't the end of the world, now, is it?

*Part of me does believe that Obnoxio the Clown will play a role in the End of Days. I don't know why, it is just a nagging feeling. Probably because is represented by a picture of Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

Parky on Goody

I don't think this has ever happened to me before, but I agree absolutely with Michael Parkinson:

"Her death is as sad as the death of any young person but it's not the passing of a martyr or a saint or, God help us, Princess Di... When we clear the media smokescreen from around her death, what we're left with is a woman who came to represent all that's paltry and wretched about Britain today. She was brought up on a sink estate, as a child came to know both drugs and crime, was barely educated, ignorant and puerile. Then she was projected to celebrity by Big Brother and, from that point on, became a media chattel to be manipulated and exploited till the day she died."

And:

"What bothers me is that the media first of all recommended we hate Jade Goody. 'A slapper with a face like a pig'; 'the most hated woman in Britain', remember? And shortly thereafter tried to persuade us to celebrate her."

Finally:

He said Goody was "the perfect victim of our times...brought up in a cesspit of poverty and died to an orchestrated chorus of exploitation".

The only caveat I'd add is that Jade made the choice to be exploited by the media; she lived off it, loved it and revelled in it. She was the perfect partner with the media in the eradication of anything approaching dignity in her life and death.

Fair play to Goody; she took what little talent she had (namely shamelessness) and used it to turn herself into a millionaire and to look after her kids after her death. But the ongoing media spotlight on her death, and the mourning that seems to go all the way up to fucking Downing Street has nothing to do with celebrating Goody's life, but has far more to do with the Great British past time of wallowing in the misery of others and loving a real life soap opera with a tragic end.