The most over-used and falsely applied term in what passes for journlism now has to be fake news. Passing highly plausible conspiracy reports off as ‘luicrous rubbish’ on the one hand – while promoting myths themselves on the other – how the mainstream media hacks find the enthusiasm to do it day after day remains a mystery.
‘Hope for vaccine in New Year’ headlined yesterday’s Sunday Times: I used its search engine to establish that the Murdoch Mendacity Machine has run ‘promised vaccine’ stories 186 times this year. How mad do you have to be to spend 186/256 days predicting something, but pushing it further into the future? I mean, how bonkers are the hacks who spend 73% of their time predicting the impossible?
In the olden days of our dear departed Guardian, the excuse most of the time for it printing hilarious nonsense was that it was housed in a building full of sloppy proofreaders. This led to it being referred in Private Eye as The Grauniad – a name that stuck for many years.
Today, Little G no longer has the proofreaders to blame: instead, printing lies is down to its Executive editor, who has decreed how to smear those with whom it disagrees. Thus, she dictates that Climate Change sceptics are in fact ‘deniers’, conservative thinkers are ‘regressive’, Covid19 libertarians are ‘anti-vaxx conspiracy theorists’, and Antifa rioters are ‘peaceful demonstrators’.
My default reactions to any news story these days are (1) Is this a wind-up? (2) You would say that and (3) Do I look as if I give a shit? That’s to say, it’s about people getting upset about nothing, bias sticking out like an in-scale penis in the Statue of Liberty’s mouth, or celebrity codswallop.
By sheer volume, N° 3 is the most obvious. This was my favourite record of nothing yesterday:
Wayne Rooney gets emergency Covid test after infected pal delivers luxury watch to his house.
Wayne Rooney is super-fit and under thirty-five. He has roughly 30 chances in 200,000 of dying from Covid. He may sneeze up to four times and throw a sicky for a few days. This is not news, this is a washed-up soccer playing gonk buying a watch.
N° 2 led the pack at the Mail on Sunday – if you could fight your way past the ads – with a gripping video of the Pfizer production line churning out bottles of “Covid vaccine”:
……new footage shows the vaccine that could end the Covid misery engulfing the planet. Drug giant Pfizer has already manufactured ‘several hundred thousand doses’ of the jab at its plant in Puurs, Belgium, The Mail on Sunday can reveal. They are being stockpiled ready to be rolled out worldwide if clinical trials are a success, and regulators deem it safe and effective. The US giant hopes to make 100 million doses available this year, of which 40 million are destined for the UK – a figure that will be dwarfed by the 1.3 billion jabs the company aims to manufacture in 2021.…
The Mail Group is the best-run business in Fleet Street, but it’s business isn’t journalism. This is pretty apparent in everything they produce. My questions on reading this alarming story yesterday morning were: why is Pfizer stockpiling the stuff before it’s been tested? who is the “vaccine” to be tested on? and who’s going to do the regulating? None of these questions were answered: as George Orwell would’ve said, “This isn’t news, it’s PR”.
But I group it under N°2 because of the ridiculous opener, ‘the Covid misery engulfing the planet‘. The only misery is being caused by the élites’ reaction to Coronavirus, and their impenetrable rules about the standing sitting running jumping distancing mask farrago.
The Editorial Board behind the Mail would say that, because the swabs around its Zero moral compass editor Ted Verity (not veritas, mind) are all globalists who gladly switched sides on the Brexit issue in order to ensure the advertising revenue from Big Globalist business would carry on pouring into the MoS.
Verity’s first act as editor was to fire the delightful and intelligent Boris Johnson sister Rachel, and replace her with the unutterably ghastly (and lucky to be at liberty) hacking airhead Tina Weaver. Terrifique Tina 38-27-46 learned her trade at The Mirror. You know – the Mirror edited by Piers Morgan who had nothing to do with phone-hacking and never learned how to hack a phone, with but one flaw in his case….he was guilty.
So now you know.
But the richest seam is Numero Uno, because for a wrinkly like me who still grasps the chemical and olfactory difference between stools and sucrose, it is the easiest evidence to collect for any journalist still interested in Truth – as opposed to who owned the hamster that Freddie Starr allegedly consumed.
My N°1 pick of the weekend is this little tidbit of invented self-absorption:
I realise this puts me at a disadvantage, because I saw the name and thought ‘Who he?”.
Then I read that he didn’t want to be binary any more, he wanted to be non-binary. My problem here was that binary in relation to human beings is a form of cranial contents definition: the binary brain sees the Universe and our Earth through the “eyes” of the brain, despite the overwhelming evidence in New Physics suggesting that it is not like that at all. The non-binary brain listens to all sides and usually concludes that (for example) there is nature and nurture, not nature or nurture. There is also Nietsche, but he went mad, anthaddisnaartimportantattheessmomenintime.
However, it appears that I have been wrong all my educated life, and binary is yet another term that’s been hijacked by braindead pc, whose cadres lack the imagination to come up with any new phrase that isn’t complete todger, for example, cultural appropriation. So now binary black-and-white thinking means (for those of you who are full of zip, zap and shit) a queer who swings both ways – in LGBTQspeak, our Samuel has “come out” as being G and B – so he’s two people – but actually B covers it…so he’s one Thing being Two Smiths.
Iggle doogell bibble babble crapple foggle.
Read this extract from the piece, and weep quietly in a darkened room free of weapons with which you might harm yourselves and others [my emphases]:
When Sam Smith came out as non-binary in 2019, no longer identifying as he, it made global news…..last year the 28-year-old made headlines around the world, coming out as non-binary during an interview posted on Instagram with the actress and presenter Jameela Jamil and asking that people use the pronouns they/them instead of he/him. At the time Smith said that they wanted to be open about their new identity, but weren’t ready to speak at length about it.
I’ve spared you the worst of the article. I now await “global news” revealing what two hysterically narcissistic singer-songwriters might put after the next song They write – Smith/Smith?
Can we just be clear about this before I hit the ceiling on my way towards a Time and/or Galaxy far far away where the sub-atomic zone has not, as yet, invaded 3-dimensional reality? Sam Smith is a 28 year old Gay man, and he has “come out” as bisexual. In physicality terms, he is one person and always will be. Sam Smith pleading guilty to talking rubbish on the grounds that the other Sam Smith said it is, to be obvious here, inadmissable as Court evidence.
And he’s coming out of what – the genie’s lamp? Doctor Frankenstein’s wrappings? Pret à Manger? Left field? I mean, is this ‘They’ couple coming out of a psychiatric asylum for those who were at one time deluded about being one, but are now two? Because if so, whyTF is he being released?
How long will it be, we wonder, before non-binaries (NBs?) start demanding two votes? To be honest, I don’t think it’s going to matter, because work I conducted with the Department of Health about AIDS during 1986-7 showed that around 0.4% at most of the British population are bisexual.
We live, without doubt, in a mad, mad, mad, mad world.