- Thu Aug 18, 2016 9:19 pm
#472465
Dacre can fuck off. I mean really fuck off.
They can't understand that yet again, this is something that for once makes a lot of us feel good. Of course it isn't perfect by any means, and overall I don't think it has been as successful as an Olympics as our jamboree four years ago, but for Christ The Redeemers sake, if a North Korean gymnast is up for a selfie with her South Korean counterpart with no apparent fear of retribution (because apparently even the Dear Leader realises it's good PR) then surely the Mailites can see the sheer joy of it all?
But they won't. They'll have a pop at Mo because he wasn't born here, Jessica Ennis for coming from a mixed race family (and if she retires they'll have a go at KJT for not being white and being a Scouser). They'll have a go at Bradley Wiggins for sticking his tongue out during the anthem, at Laura Trott for being so bubbly all the time, the Brownlees for being northern, Tom Daley for being a confirmed gay, the other two for being possibly gay as the emotion overtook them as their medal was confirmed, at Max Whitlock for not doing a real sport; Andy Murray for being Scottish, Justin Rose for only winning against a weakened field, and on and on it goes.
And thats just the British. I shudder to think what they think of the perma-grinning brilliant Simone Billes or Michael Phelps or Usain Bolt or the Chinese divers or etc etc etc.
And the reason is the Mail, the editor and columnists and a lot of the readers are content to sneer at all the above, even though people have achieved great things through hard effort and determination. Qualities that you would have thought your average Mailite would have applauded, but because these things have been achieved without making somebody else's life worse, they don't want to know. They are content to live their mediocre little lonely lives with contempt for everything and everyone apart from themselves.
But let's not presume it's just the Mail. On the flip side there was the ridiculous Simon Jenkins piece in The Graun whereby he thinks that all this celebration of British success means we are turning into the USSR. Also, he was upset that the ten o'clock news on BBC1 was delayed by the Kenny and Trott show the other night. Now, anyone else with a soul in their body threw their hats sky high in the air following their victories and grinned like a loon when they embraced afterwards, but Jenkins was not happy that it must have been approaching eleven thirty before Emily Maitlis or whoever it was popped up. Obviously at 10pm he was unable to switch to ITV for News at Ten. Or to the BBC News Channel. Or Sky News. Or even Radio 4. Or to access the Internet. Idiot.
One last thing, if Dacre really does have a thing about women with alopecia, can we send Jo Shand to wave her two gold medals in his face? And can we also send fellow sufferer Heather Fisher from the ladies rugby team? With all her teammates? And what the hell, take Jade Jones and Nicola Adams as well for good measure.
They can't understand that yet again, this is something that for once makes a lot of us feel good. Of course it isn't perfect by any means, and overall I don't think it has been as successful as an Olympics as our jamboree four years ago, but for Christ The Redeemers sake, if a North Korean gymnast is up for a selfie with her South Korean counterpart with no apparent fear of retribution (because apparently even the Dear Leader realises it's good PR) then surely the Mailites can see the sheer joy of it all?
But they won't. They'll have a pop at Mo because he wasn't born here, Jessica Ennis for coming from a mixed race family (and if she retires they'll have a go at KJT for not being white and being a Scouser). They'll have a go at Bradley Wiggins for sticking his tongue out during the anthem, at Laura Trott for being so bubbly all the time, the Brownlees for being northern, Tom Daley for being a confirmed gay, the other two for being possibly gay as the emotion overtook them as their medal was confirmed, at Max Whitlock for not doing a real sport; Andy Murray for being Scottish, Justin Rose for only winning against a weakened field, and on and on it goes.
And thats just the British. I shudder to think what they think of the perma-grinning brilliant Simone Billes or Michael Phelps or Usain Bolt or the Chinese divers or etc etc etc.
And the reason is the Mail, the editor and columnists and a lot of the readers are content to sneer at all the above, even though people have achieved great things through hard effort and determination. Qualities that you would have thought your average Mailite would have applauded, but because these things have been achieved without making somebody else's life worse, they don't want to know. They are content to live their mediocre little lonely lives with contempt for everything and everyone apart from themselves.
But let's not presume it's just the Mail. On the flip side there was the ridiculous Simon Jenkins piece in The Graun whereby he thinks that all this celebration of British success means we are turning into the USSR. Also, he was upset that the ten o'clock news on BBC1 was delayed by the Kenny and Trott show the other night. Now, anyone else with a soul in their body threw their hats sky high in the air following their victories and grinned like a loon when they embraced afterwards, but Jenkins was not happy that it must have been approaching eleven thirty before Emily Maitlis or whoever it was popped up. Obviously at 10pm he was unable to switch to ITV for News at Ten. Or to the BBC News Channel. Or Sky News. Or even Radio 4. Or to access the Internet. Idiot.
One last thing, if Dacre really does have a thing about women with alopecia, can we send Jo Shand to wave her two gold medals in his face? And can we also send fellow sufferer Heather Fisher from the ladies rugby team? With all her teammates? And what the hell, take Jade Jones and Nicola Adams as well for good measure.
"He's the leader of the gang. He's the top, he's the tip, he's the championship. He's Top Cat. And he's scum!"
- By crabcakes_windermere
- By Oblomov
- By Malcolm Armsteen