It's a favourite songlines of all time - There's no business like showbusiness- because there IS no business like showbusiness; it simply does not matter how badly people have behaved, Mainstream or Cruelty TeeVee will offer them shelter from the storms which should rightly send them scurrying for anonymity and repentance - the disgraced Neil and Lucrezia Hamilton, the disgraced Tommy Sheridan, the disgraced Jacqui Schmidt. It seems there is nothing much that a poitician can do which will deny them entry to the court of King Andrew Neil, the Big Brother House, panel shows, book shows and even, in the case of the revolting Alastair Campbell, their own simpering, self-serving documentaries. Bullyboy Campbell may well from his days as a filthster with the Mirror have the surreptitiously obtained dirt on many in the Charmed Circle of Celebrity, stories of drugs or boys of thieving which he didn't run then but still holds over the heads of both the glitterati and his erstwhile co-offenders in Filth Street, or the Great and the Good as we are instructed to call them.
I used to watch his press briefings to what we blithely call the Lobby Journalists - those putrid arseholes bribed with access to print govamenr press releases as news, even as truth - and I was astonished at his contempt and conceit as he slagged them off uphill and down dale without a word of demur much less protest from the assembled shitmongers; that they are all cowardly, contemptible lowlifes is beyond dispute but even so there were fr more of them than there was of him and yet they sat there and ate shit from a drunk a bully and a former pornographer who was part of a dodgy quartet of NewLabour ladyment - himself, Brown, Blair and Mandelstein.
And even out of office it continues, Campbell, the man who cobbled together student material from the Internet to make the case for the invasion of Iraq, who doctored the reports of the so-called Intelligence services, who basically confected the entire cassus bellus which set the Middle East ablaze, does and says, from all the portals of skymadeupnewsandfilth, exactly what he wants; his stock answer to queries about efforts on behalf of tde globaCorp holocaust, Well, would you rather Saddam Hussein was still in power ?
This man makes Jeremy Kyle look wholesome.
Dr Josef Goebbels, author, broadcaster, drunk,
pornographer, propagandist and bully relaxes at home.
In his latest documentary for the BBC he relates his struggles with alcoholism. Bless.
Maybe one day Campbell's gaff will burn down, with his dreadful partner and their childern inside. Give the rotten bastard a taste of the Baghdad City Blues. And then the arsonist'll sidle up to him, smirking like Geoff Five Grand A Day Hoon, and say, One day you'll thank me for this, bitch. And the arsonist's boss'll smile winningly and say Now look, I can't stop, I gotta go and collect my firefighting medals, but I'll pray for you. I'm a pretty, straight guy. Only not so pretty now, obviously, as my sins ooze out through my pores.
2 comments:
I keep encountering his ghastly pronouncements in his new self-appointed role as spokesman for all sufferers from depression. As one myself, of many decades standing, I find this maddening. But I have yet to hear anyone ask him if it were appropriate to have a depressive in charge of such world-changing policy engineering. Depressives are very angry people who lack the energy to carry out their darkest and most dangerous urges, which might include unleashing armageddon on the world. A drunk depressive with the ability to get others to do this for them? He should have been in a nice care home painting black and red pictures.
Great, how they do that; just seize a role for themselves. You see them all over the place, disease and cure all rolled up in the same package-
I have always been too unhappy, meself, to get depressed, too angry. Melancholy often but that's not the same, I gather. Been lucky, really, considering, with mental health; it's just the rest of it.
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