The Editor offers a calm audit of exactly where and how our culture has gone wrong.
In today’s Daily Telegraph, there’s a piece suggesting that the UK’s balance sheet is £4 trillion worse off than we thought. It’s a bit behind the music, as an nby piece in 2008 (not archived, sorry) gave the off-sheet civil servant pension liability alone as £2.1 trillion….a sum dismissed by the totally unmissed New Labour No 10 Press Office as ‘a right wing fantasy’.
I was confident then and remain so now, because I got the figure from a senior Treasury contact with a public-spirited sense of duty. However, the point I’m veering towards really is that the Torygraph piece had attracted 7 (seven – count them) comments by the time I got there. In my view, a story of this magnitude should be the banner headline of every title, 24/7 news station and website around the globe, but that’s just me being a drama queen. I got a bit queenie about the civil service pension fibs in the first place, so what can you expect? I’m clearly just a mincing hysteric.
In the same edition of the Telegraph was a why-oh-why piece by Fatty Heffer on the subject of Raoul Moat, and why he’d been turned into a hero. I hadn’t noticed that he had been, but there you are – the piece attracted 177 comments – and was rising steadily as I left.
Obviously – and I use that word advisedly – it’s a dreadful indictment of our culture that a piece of meaningless distraction provided by a self-pitying thug rather cack-handedly covered by a young fogey should get 25 times more comments than another, better-researched analysis. Especially when that latter article is pointing out with admirable clarity that the whole superstructure of our rotten Establishment has been lying its unpleasant scrotum off for the last thirty years about what an unmitigated horlicks they’ve made of the national finances.
I actually do have a few friends left who would berate me for that view, explaining in a patronising drone that I am merely forcing my own values onto others. Bollocks. The next three generations of my DNA output being sold into slavery (because greedy onanists unfit for proper employment defrauded the taxpayer) is infinitely more important than a tattooed pillock blowing his under-resourced brains out. That is an absolute value, and anyone arguing with me is clearly an idiot or a senior civil servant, and very probably both.
A thick exhibitionist proves more important and interesting than a jolly good reason to start building guillotines: how did this happen?
Murdoch is how it happened. Murdoch and Mammon and media Moguls and many other ghastly turds beginning with M like Maxwell and Mirror and Morgan and Mandelson. And lots of words beginning with C that I couldn’t possibly reproduce in a family column, such as Cowell and Campbell. That’s how it happened.