Friday, 29 July 2011



I'm sick of all this shit. Mother Payne, above, with the witch of Chipping Norton,  claims to be absolutely devastated by something or other, some of her friends at skymadeupnewsandfilth turn out to be - fuck me who'd have thought it -  filthsters, even though they helped to create her own charity and helped her get the law changed, now they've gone and absolutely devastated her, all over again. I would've thought, I do think, that having your kid nonced to death   is absolutely devastating and that, thereafter, finding out that someone had your phone number might be at most irritating, not, it seems, here, in Ruin. Totally and absolutely devastated is the immediate response to any slight, any rupture of one's amour propre.

It is, of course, the Colin Parry Syndrome, in which anyone unlawfully bereaved  is entitled to be front and centre, demanding this and that, as though we had no laws, no law enforcement, as though their loss invests them with the wisdom of Solomon, unable to grieve in private and make what adjustments as one can, the modern victim requires not just the quiet sympathy of the rest of us but a howling, shrieking, demanding celebrity. Colin Parry famously wangling a radio programme for himself after his son, Tim, was killed by Kneecaps's bold volunteers, famously name-dropping that As I was saying to Princess Diana only this morning, famously seeing his Mrs, also bereaved, walk out on him, pigsick of his  lust for celebrity.

I never cared for Sarah Payne and her campaigning;  rightly, we don't have victims' justice and those who, whipped-up by the likes of the foul Rebekah Woods, demand it are the same sort of people who would burn paediatricians out of their homes, are those whose currency is neglect and stupidity, are those who, at one level, manage to blame an entire police force for their own dismal parental neglect, those who shout the loudest being themselves the emptiest vesseels,  the cracked bells.

It's almost an adjunct to the absurd posturing of the multiculturalists, this public, celebrity victimhood, people who haven't a pot to piss in starting their "own" charities, as though they were poncing on the Civil List like Charlie and the rest of them and had to find some means to justify themselves.  Of course in the case of the loathsome Gerry and Cilla McCann  the charity wheeze usefully paid off the mortgage and sent the family off around the world, first class; I doubt Sarah Payne is in their league of devilry and is as much sinned against as sinning,  the weirdo Brooks peddling compassion and sisterhood as glibly as she peddled tits and tittle tattle.  Even so, she and other unfortunates, cruelly bereaved need to learn the value of the phrases No Comment  and This Is A Private Matter,  they need to grieve in private or, like the relatives of those murdered on the Moors, spend a lifetime being egged on, having their hatreds stoked, living a life of no return, truly, a life totally and utterly devastated. If Mother Payne has any  proper friends they'll tell her to shut the fuck up.


Agie said...

Amen to that

mongoose said...

And Rebekakah is now doomed to jug-time. Yay! No way out now. Doubles all round.

a young anglo-irish catholic said...

Aye, the near-silent parents of the Moors Murdered. Great point.

yardarm said...

The likes of Brooks need dead and missing children to flog their rags and advance their own profiles and careers. And the frenzy when a child went missing: it looked like the mediamobmonster themselves derived a sexual thrill from it. So neccessary did the Maddys and Millys, the Sarahs and the Sohams appear to be to them I sometimes wondered if they did the abducting themselves and there was a bunker under Fleet Street holding missing children like so many Kaspar Hausers.

Sara Payne was as neccessary to Brooks as the indulgence of a moghul long gone to seed or the grovelling subservience of the quislings in Downing Street.

Nightmares can come true and possibly, understandably, Sara Payne might have been broken by hers. Her anguish made her vulnerable to Brooks, who was another predator.

Yes, Mr Ishmael, her true friends should have told her to maintain the privacy of her grief; the public expression of which, demanded from the suffering is one of the horrors of the time.

Yes, Mr Mongoose, I find it a cheering prospect as well. Perhaps a mafia style maxi trial where all the vermin can be chained up together.

call me ishmael said...

I intended, mr yardarm, to visit no further cruelty on Ms Payne, just voicing an irritation at her adding, herself,to Sorrow's banquet.

It is the cheek-pecking familiarity to Brooks of the Wisteria One which should, even among Tories, damn him forever. And I always said that Momma's Boy Clarkson was a cheap cunt. Interesting that James May, who writes for the Barclay Twins in the Filth-O-Graph barbed on Top Gear that there was no use marketing Jaguars to Clarkson's Cotswolds Set; why not, asked the injunctioning oaf, because they are all going to prison, came the cheery rejoinder. Shades of the wretched Angus Deaton's pillorying on the wretched Have I Got Stale News For You

I think, by the way, mr mongoose, that Brooks is no longer a member of the imprisonable class, although I would be happy to be proved wrong.

The rags were particularly odious, mr yaic, in their hounding of Moors Murders relatives, never letting them gain even a little peace, forever goading, reminding, agitating. I think we should hang a few of them or declare open season on their doorstepping, their intrusive snapping, it only takes a few people to smack these slags in the kisser and they'd all stop.

a young anglo-irish catholic said...

I used to find myself stopped at the traffic lights by the Old Vic of a morning and quite often Rebekah's limo would pull up alongside, with big hair in the back.

After the Payne campaign started, her limo acquired mega tinted rear windows, but I still see the outline of her ridiculous barnet.

Also - I have said this before? - Rebekah was mega-humiliated by her 12 hours in Lavender Hill nick not because she had to be removed from her Battersea pad so great was her rage at Mr Camp, her boyfriend, but because the whole of medialand knew that she'd return from Elton's birthday to find Mr Camp in the scratcher with a Mr Guy Black of the Press Complaints Commission.

All true, youcouldn'tmakeitup....

A friend working for a removals company moved Rebekah to Battersea. her parents came down for the day to oversee operations. He unpacked a picture of Mr Camp and the mother, in that northern way, said to the removals man - he won't be around much longer.

Northern house wife's intuition. But maybe Rebekah (what sort of div changes the spelling of their name?) wanted a soap star boyfriend so she could stay in the loop.

a young anglo-irish catholic said...

Interesting story about May's quip. I used to work with him and he's pretty much himself on the TeeVee. I can quite see that he would be falling about at the Chipping Campden nonsense.

Hammond, they say, is a nightmare having dragged himself through sheer willpower from a job on northern radio through a PR job to motoring Telly and the much-missed Menandmotors.

I hear that Hammond is not beyond timing the amount each of the presenters get solo on the screen and complaining that he doesn't get the same exposure.

We should celebrate Clarkson for bringing to the globalTeeVee the perfect re-creation of a late 1980s Fulham dinner party, populated by minor public school types with him playing the part of the 'controversial' friend.

I went to a few meeself. We once had the King of Belgium's illegitimate daughter - er, Delfine, I think - round. A right scorcher.

call me ishmael said...

Kemp WAS tres LabourNouvelle, wasn't he, so you're right there, but I didn't know that it was his gay infidelity which sparked the punch-up; always suspected it, though; was I right in assuming that he gets all this work with skymadeupnewsandfilth - the gangs, the squaddies in Afghanistan, in order to keep his gob shut about Rupert's weird androgyne, Bekah?

yardarm said...

Yes,Dave really has caught his top hat in the wisteria on this one. The News International shower might have been God Almighty on the newsroom floor but faced with porridge they`ll squeal and grass to save their own sweating skins: the fun will start when Mulcaire starts blabbering.

Guilt by association and his own utter stupidity will steadily corrode Cameron`s dwindling authority as Whitehall, Westminster, Wapping and Scotland Yard stab and betray each other and themselves.

Ref Mr yaic`s comments re Brooks and Kemp. Maybe his phone was hacked and that`s how she knew he was ' doing a Hague ' on her ?