Melanie Phillips

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-1349951/Gayness-mandatory-schools-Gay-victims-prejudice-new-McCarthyites.html

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-1352024/The-calls-killed-week-prove-bedrock-values-society-grave-danger.html

Yes – Melanie Phillips has been proven right. Writing such a vicious, ignorant piece as her demented, deliberately misleading rant last week led to an “¬extraordinarily vicious outpouring of hate.” It’s almost as if her being hateful caused a reaction, isn’t it?  They will have to keep paying her to write now.  The Daily Mail cannot rely on a fascination with the fragile mind of Liz Jones alone.


I hadn’t seen any of the incitements to violence against her until she listed them in her article, just hundreds of people suggesting she is mentally unwell and that her article was extraordinary enough to make her a laughing stock. Given that so many find her a source of amusement or sympathy, I’m surprised she has been seen as a target for violence. I’m sure it will shock some, but I have seen a comment that suggests she is “bats*t paranoid” and yet had previously seen none like that asking her to bathe in the Thames. However, seeing as how her article this weekend concentrated on a very small element of the previous article it referred to, rather than the elements which caused some people to react angrily, I could well understand if her delusions / arse covering cause people to settle on her being a vile, reactionary has-been, desperate to move on from her role in the such nonsense as the MMR vaccine outrage (where she has played a part in the deaths of children – I hope she forgives some of the public for taking her apparent concern for children less than seriously after that). To be in “opposition” but not be “anti” is just deliciously nonsensical. She’s going completely off on one in trying to cover her dirty tracks this time. She is a lying aggressor determined to manipulate arguments to be kind on her, unfair to others. That she thinks anyone remains fooled is an amusing cue to let her waste a few months embarrassing herself.


Oddly but amusingly, the “gay lobby” she referred to seems to have been mostly heterosexual this time around. Singling out Johann Hari was odd – he is far less likely to chuck a kitchen sink at her than most (indicating she continues to miss the point, to much merriment). Disagreeing isn’t a vicious attack. Most gay people commenting on it all have gone with “Is she off on one again? Bless.” The shock tactics she used to deny genuinely worrying issues like climate change, combined with her attempts to create dramas where there are none, just means she’s become tiresome noise – although I must credit her for getting some interest with her lesbian equations and gay map reading nonsense. It is odd that one lot of rubbish should suddenly provoke a reaction, but it was her desperate intention so I’m sure she is thrilled.

“More frightening still, as has been so graphically demonstrated by the reaction to my article, they are also rendering people increasingly incapable of rational thought.” It’s almost too funny, isn’t it?

Joys

On Friday the 26th of February, I had a lovely civil partnership ceremony with my beloved Tom (thank Jane Griffiths – your work towards civil partnerships in the UK mean I will always treasure being a cyber pal). We made it through the whole thing without bursting into tears whilst looking into each other’s eyes.

It was a close thing though. I love that grumpy old git of mine.

Then we had a gorgeous meal with a few friends and family at the Forburys Restaurant before heading off to the wonderful myhotel Brighton for the weekend. Brighton was apparently full of Conservatives at some pointless conference or another that may be less lovely for them in their memories come the election. I do not think any of them stayed in the hotel, shopped in the Lanes alongside us or were in the pubs we drank around for much of the weekend. If they were, I was too happy to notice and missed the opportunity of behaving like a twat towards them. Damn. Anyway, I hope they all had a good time. The husband and I bought presents for each other, went clothes shopping for ourselves, and spent money on clothing for a dog at the gayest pet shop in the world. It was magnificent.

We had to come back to bloody Reading on Sunday the 28th as I needed to be at work the next day, yet my spirits remained high in spite of such damned misfortune.

On Monday, I made it through the day thinking of the evening – namely, taking ownership of the most fantastic puppy in the world. Patch is a staffy, and a Pompey supporter (trust me on this – no scummer he, whatever the husband/wife/might-just-still-call-him-partner says). We could not have taken ownership of him before we had wed. I do not want people to think of our child substitute as being ours out of wedlock. This puppy will be wearing a smoking gown, puffing on a pipe and then discretely peeing on the legs of common people in no time. Excellent. I love it when a plan comes together.

Anyway, ever since, life has been a mix of depressing, hideous lows (work) and wonderful, heavenly highs (cleaning up puppy poop and trying to ease jaws off my wrists and ankles).

It is rare for me to be happy for the majority of my time. Approaching a second full week of it, I thought I would share. And soon, very soon indeed, I WILL BE A COMPLETE WHINGING GIT AGAIN.

Make the most of these moments. They make life worth living.

(PS) I started this message at lunch time. After a full Monday of work, I hate you all again. Didn’t take long, did it? Ah well. X

Beautiful Day

This morning, we paid for the rings for our civil partnership and spent a small fortune on food and gifts so that we could be a sickeningly sweet couple tomorrow.

This afternoon, "my" football team beat "your" football team 4-1.  You shrugged, smiled anyway, kissed me, and disappeared to the bedroom "to read and have a quick kip" (in short, to sulk without wanting me to know).  Had the result been reversed, I suspect I would not have spoken to you before our civil partnership, and your face would quite probably have had something rude scribbled across in it permanent marker whilst you slept.  Or gotten stuck in the u-bend.

That's why I love you.  It is also why so many of my past lovers flew like the wind within a few hours or days, and why the football league will now have FA Cup placings to add to the list of reasons why they will have to try to help Pompey survive. 

These all matter (not equally, but that's football for you), and have made an old whinger like me feel all warm and content.  Look - I'm putting something on my blog and it isn't even hateful shit.

You mean more than I think I can ever let you know.

X

Salter Balls

If you have not visited the feeblest blog at the “not thrilling” Politics section of The Telegraph website, I strongly encourage you to do so for a giggle.

http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/author/msalter/

The comments, as with the getreading website, are what provide most interest. Uhm, “hysterical abuse” (January 22nd comments)? Perhaps when suggesting someone has behaved like a lunatic for pointing out a tired level of distain towards Mr Salter, yes? The soon to be former MP is using the website seemingly because any criticism of his words brings about great defence by others. He cannot defend himself any more then, poor thing?

That aside, the blog needs defending by someone at the Telegraph. Otherwise, the number of comments would be noticeably fewer and the value would be more readily apparent. And I’m saying that as someone drawing no comments whatsoever. Which at least means I can relax and not run crying to others for help.

Pants On The Ground

General Larry Platt speaks for us all. Iconic.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMwhl4IrPNc

People Are People, So Why Should It Be...?

Examples of stupid this week:

1) reading over the phone to someone who has the document I am reading from in their hands and knows which section to look at (page 2 of 5 – epic...);

2) telling a supplier what his email address was as he could not remember it;

3)...

God. There are so many coming to mind that I cannot be bothered with that already. It just hasn't been a great week at work.

To be honest, I am starting to think I need therapy. This has been a terrible year for workloads and distractions and arguments. I’m getting hateful towards the public. My long-term plan to eliminate all who cannot stand to the side on escalators without being asked is stuck in development hell. I now get funny looks when I push people out of shop doorways when they have stopped there for a chat on their mobile. I'm the one who tries to avoid getting in anyone's way, and that makes me the minority. And not just in Reading, although that thought had kept me going for the last few years.

Breaking point - where I suspect I start throwing my faeces at passersby and seeing if anyone thinks it unusual behaviour - was nearly reached by going to the London Film Festival this week. I have a lot of fun at the BFI, I love the festival, this has been a fairly good year from what I have seen there so far, and the trips should therefore be a nice treat.

But dear god, the other people. Them. Possibly, you.

On Wednesday night, I found myself being thoroughly (open mouthed) appalled by

(a) media students spouting total bull around all the open plan areas of the BFI (very few ever actually seem to go into the screenings, and I saved an especially withering look for the girl that decided to slag off denim and checked shirts – guess what I was wearing? - whilst sat next to me in a beret, sunglasses, pleated skirt, poncho, it’s-eight-in-the-evening-and-you-are-at-a-cinema-complex-you-total-muppet); and

(b) people who obviously go to the cinema once a decade and are immediately panic stricken enough to fail to understand very simple things.

Simple Things:

• door numbers;

• seat numbers;

• queuing, as shut doors with a member of staff stood in front and people queuing outside them mean it’s not time to go in yet – yes, that’s why the people you just saw trying to push past the poor member of staff (someone who doesn’t usually have to deal with so many cretins a night) didn’t get in and are being stared at by the normal people;

• personal hygiene (yes, even I can complain about some of them), especially mid-queue;

• some people may find your voice shrieking and painful, especially if mid-movie, or throughout a movie;

• people sat next to you are not cup holders, and on a related note...;

• it’s easier to remove backpacks whilst stood in the aisle than when you get to your seat after the movie starts, and on a related note...:

• you should turn up before the movie starts (late, due to other morons ahead of you, some of whom dressed themselves and everything), in case you struggle with, say, your drink and backpack at a significant part of the film you didn’t have enough interest in to watch all of;

• there is an innate hideousness to spandex as a lifestyle choice, especially if worn by people who (possibly) dress themselves;

• the removal of tw*t hats (especially if worn at a jaunty angle, which suggest you are unhinged) if you are over six foot three and will be sat near the front of a crowd would be appreciated;

• mobile phones can be turned off, or can even be jammed into one of your orifices with considerable force;

• you need to get change ready before you get to a bar;

• you need to check you have money before ordering at a bar;*

• those who can barely walk should not push to the front of a queue and then stop for a chat with themselves every half, achingly painful step forward or to the side; and

• mention of your revolting corporation funding a movie generally held to be quite sh*t makes you look really stupid, especially if your flies are undone whilst you are doing it, stood right in front of the door a disappointed and tired audience for said film are trying to get out of.

Golly, aren’t I all happy and bubbly in the run up to Christmas shopping?

*Uh, I must admit to a long shop in M&S without thinking of this one first. You live and learn.

When a gay icon calls an out bisexual an out bisexual...

...the world stops turning.

I had no idea such disaster could happen so easily. Did you know?

Excitement

There may - I repeat, may - be a couple of posts coming soon. I had totally forgotten about the blogs for about a month, then felt throughly ashamed of myself. Why, if I don't post anything here, some of you may stop emailing me (rather than posting under blog entries - I do look very lonely here). And if you stop disagreeing with my fairly generous feelings towards films and how much I hate people, then that means I have to use the Get Reading website to argue with people. And I do - and it sucks.

So, those reviews of Ratman and No Room At The Inn are coming soon(ish). And on Owt4Nowt, I might share some exciting news, just as soon as anything of note happens in Reading again.

An Incredible Feeling of Joy

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/crime/article6808592.ece

Right - now I'm sure someone out there can clarify this for me as it all seems rather vague on the web at the moment, but what happens to all those prosecuted over the years (or at least after the EU requirement if that was at a later date)? An apology? Legal actions against the prosecution services et al?

I fear this could lead to some very dodgy sales going on for a bit and clearly a moral panic amongst the media has begun to kick in. However, until the politicians try to use their long-running cock-up to help Keith Vaz and company make the Act an even more pathetic and patronising mess (counting the hours down until Vaz speaks about his fury to the media - perhaps it has already happened and for some reason my brain has not started melting yet), feel free to buy and sell all the gory movies you want in the UK everybody.

C'mon HMV - start selling those uncut Pinku films. You know you want to.

Painful

This ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=wGy9jT5VhDM ) is just excruciating – does anyone tune into to this radio show on a regular basis? Why?

Quite apart from the 10% mantra being reeled off on a loop, the presenter is also an infuriating little prick. The IDR (not in Reading West anyway) and any other local abbreviations or traffic landmarks are hardly likely to be key to being the next local MP. I thought the R in IDR stood was Route, and have lived here almost a decade without being corrected, and most people seemed to think it stood for Ring. Clearly saying IDR settles the matter for most of us, as thrilling as it all is, and no-one actually gives a shit apart from a wannabe shock jock.

So yes – a terrible candidate giving a risible performance, but let’s not forget the terrible radio presenter on a typical crappy local station too. The smug little giggler cannot do his own job properly, so why criticise others?

Naz should have been allowed to fade quietly away into third or fourth place by himself, but am I alone in thinking this interview may lead some people to feel sorry for the clueless little fart weasel?

Curious Silence

It has all gone very quiet in the media with regards to the trial of Tilehurst terror attack planner suspect and racist Neil Lewington, arrested and found to have been en route, with explosive devices, to meet a woman who he had been told had had a relationship with an Asian man - and whose young daughter was expecting a baby by an Asian man.

The coverage was not exactly deafening two weeks ago (see the recent New Statesman article for a frustratingly plausible suggestion why), but I doubt nothing of any further interest has occurred in the last fortnight. TV news coverage has obviously passed us all by completely. The national printed press seems to have forgotten the case. Obviously, the local press have more important matters to report on - help Miss Berkshire win Miss England, someone else has been clamped in the Lidl car park, etc. I am not belittling all their articles (except the clamping - something that gets reported on so often we can assume reporters gather at the McDonalds drive thru next door to it to keep themselves employed), but the priorities are a little misplaced. Still, the national press have had little or nothing to say on the matter either.

Why so little media attention?

Did my viewing of Africa Addio (see my other blog, if you are bored today) totally throw out my perspective on such matters, or is a white man accused of planning such attacks of less public interest than someone of another ethnicity doing so?

How is he denying eight charges related to terrorism or explosives in the face of such overwhelming evidence?

Why did so many people suspect he was planning these activities yet remain quiet on the matter until he was arrested (for drinking and smoking on a train then urinating in public – at which point his bag was searched and the rest of his activities came to the attention of the police)?

How did he continue living at his parent’s home for ten years without speaking to his father?

Basically, a little discussion about the media approach to this, the circumstances surrounding the case, or even some bitchy gossip would be welcome around this subject. Anything but this weird silence. A decade on from David Copeland (Mr Lewington is a something of a fan of his, and Timothy McVeigh, by all accounts), it seems white people accused of building bombs to kill and maim those living in the UK is of no interest. Still, nice to see so many photos of Michael Jackson’s family again today...

(Note – Mr Lewington met some women via the internet, including a chatroom called Hot Or Not. I’m guessing, from what little we know of the man and his “publicity” photo, the answer is Not. Again, feel free to discuss).

Michael Jackson RIP. That means Rest In Peace. So shut it.

It is still a subject of interest in the media. I know dozens of people who didn’t give a toss about his death when they first heard about it, and a couple who got a bit upset for a few hours and then moved on with their lives. I know many, many more people who helpfully circulated the tasteless jokes that show just how little most living people thought of the man, sadly.

All that in mind, can anyone reading this who is convinced people gave a crap about the whiny fella please – PLEASE – stop watching the documentaries about his life, and put a temporary halt on buying MP3 tracks from his horrendously extensive back catalogue. This may ensure your survival in when out in public. Hopefully this will help send a message to the media that some of us are near breaking point and may need to create some quite disgraceful public displays of shouting and excrement throwing until we go back to discussing matters which will hold some importance to how we all live our lives.

Someone I had not seen in almost 15 years has been thanking former school friends for leaving messages of support for her on facebook, following the death of her husband. She will be bringing up their children, facing a future without the love of her life by their side. I am sure she feels great to have the media insist she should be thinking of the Jackson family at this time (we all are – at least, that is what we are being told).

NOTE – I have not quite recovered from the news of the death of Mollie Sugden yet, several days on. If anyone shares this rather daft pain, feel free to let me know. We can discuss this without inflicting the topic on the millions of people who shouldn’t give a flying f*ck. Thanks.

A Failure To Communicate – Destroy The Presses

Just a few short weeks ago, Reading had a familiar daily roll of tat -The Reading Evening Post.

Everyone in the UK has a largely pointless, frequently laughable local paper – it’s what makes us who we are, etc etc. I thought, at the time, few would mourn when it ceased to be printed.

Alas, the replacement service is two weekly papers (why bother with the news from a few days ago and why have them two days apart instead of three or four?) and the associated Get Reading website has become progressively more demented with every passing day - which is amusing, yes, but also rather terrifying as it has now become the main news source of the local area.

I have started to post less frequently on the comments boards, as I am slightly concerned that a few people who used to use the service to leave a few useful comments have now joined in with the mental chaos of the site. It is now easier to post random comments and create a fantasy world through the site than to treat it as a genuine, reality based mouthpiece for the community.

A large reason for this is, I suspect, that despite the website having been hyped up by the owners as being of more consequence for the local populace after the end of the daily EP, the number of news stories posted on the website has obviously decreased. The quality and value of many stories (small fire at house - saucepan slightly damaged and nobody hurt - being one of my favoured examples) has failed to improve.

Of particular note this week was a piece written by someone in very basic draft form, and then seemingly slipped onto the website by accident. The content was seemingly without purpose and the writer a failed GCSE English student - notably, “police arrived and moved him and his mates on” then referring to football as “footie.” Passable in conversation (some would say – I appreciate others would argue this), but also barely literate, obviously not submitted via a decent editor and of little value to any readers. . The subject – “tiny” pre-teen ignored a police dispersal order, the reason for which went unreported – means absolutely nothing to anyone not already in possession of the facts (and for whom the report would seemingly be pointless).

How much are people being paid to churn out such poorly written pieces about so very little of consequence? Without spending time to get some genuine insight into the stories, the majority of articles contain no depth, perspective, few facts, little value...

Whilst some of the writers are clearly professional journalists, many of them churn out the same sort of ill-conceived rubbish I can do here – on a blog, which does not pretend to offer an unbiased public service.

It would appear that an average current local newspaper offers significantly more value than the way forward for local news reporting.

NOTE – If you have the surname Makepeace, do not allow the media to print your surname. It will result in hysterical laughter in offices across Reading.

Two New Reasons To Hate Ad Breaks

1) Current advert for a cola drink - boy uses powers of fizzy pop to tidy girlfriends room. At least, I think that's what happens. The advert doesn't quite make things very clear. At the end, surrounding buildings start to explode (which feels a bit unfair on the neighbours). I presume the brand is happy they spent what was obviously a lot of money on something confusing which hints their product is evil. Oh, and when did you last see someone attractive in an advert? Suddenly, all the supposedly beautiful people are vacant, utterly forgettable nobodies or smug face-aches (I'm thinking of Mickey - the fool from the hair gunk advert out last year).

2) When buying insurance, have you ever been asked questions about beards or bread? No? Good - let's assume anyone that believes this has happened to him is mental, and completely untrustworthy. Ditto any firm using him in their adverts.

Let The Right One In

Firstly, the book and the movie are both fantastic.

Secondly, to all the people walking out of the screenings because the film is subtitled - I am sorry if you are dyslexic. I understand subtitles affect your viewing pleasure. If you dislike subtitles but don't walk out of films purely because of them, I am not aiming what follows at you either.

If, however, you are neither of the above, yet reading occasional dialogue still ruins your viewing experience, kindly recognise that everyone else in the audience watching and hearing you march out in spluttering disgust understands you to be contemptible idiots. If reading is too much of a strain, and you think swearing loudly about being expected to read a few lines a minute is the normal thing to do in front of people who can cope with such immense pressure and are enjoying the film - kindly avoid all public areas in future to make things easier for yourselves and everyone else. I, and many others, are happier not seeing and listening to people like you. It's not just snobbery, it's that your faces hurt us.

A quarter of a Reading audience cannot cope with reading.

(Note - the same goes for people who cannot bring themselves to watch black and white films. Since the footage is usually not "something real-life" anyway, you can stop throwing hissing fits at how fictional people look in black and white, rather than when sharing your shade of fake tan orange. Thank you)

Fact Me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Y0LYn_j1SA

Yeah - I want him to fact you harder and further. I want him to fact you so hard that all the most trivial information about the latest Peugeot vehicles squirts out, making you scream, sweat, and swiftly lose control of your obviously limited thinking capabilities.

I hope he does this in the backseat, offering such an appalling display that any other potential customers in the vicinity vomit, forever associating all Peugeot vehicles with two greasy airheads droning each other to a sticky climax. Rightly, I hope they never buy another Peugeot.

Drive sexy? Not if it means listening to halfwits like this rattle out such hideous, ad-man sex-talk. Urgh!