The loons in the boondocks

Enough is enough. I’m saying what everyone’s too afraid to say, lily-livered leftie pussies, all of you.

We need to man this country up, now. Fuck this lockdown, let us get back to work, and if a few ‘minorities’ are hit hardest by the second spike, so fucking be it. They shouldn’t be here anyway, this is white man’s land and you bleating faggots whining about civil liberties can go live in Africa if you like it so much.

Wow, sorry. Obviously it wasn’t me saying that.

I’ve been hacked.

Because it seems that’s the new communication standard, doesn’t it? You can use social media to say whatever evil is fermenting in your cranium, taking a punt that the only ones who’ll notice are like-minded simpletons and the odd cow passing by. And if you’re ever caught out, as Ted Howze just has been, you can blame it on someone else easily enough.

European leaders are willfully ceding their continent to religious extremists following the teachings of their Pedophile Prophet Mohamed.

We dream of returning them to Mexico where their actual families & homes are! #DeportThemAll.

I finally understand why so many Muslim men would rather copulate with a goat! 

Sadly it hasn’t helped Ted. The Republicans have just withdrawn support for him in an upcoming Californian election and when even that lot baulk at your views you’re probably struggling. To his credit he didn’t trot out the hackneyed ‘hacked’ storyline, instead going with “I made the mistake of allowing others access to these accounts unknowingly”, throwing that ‘unknowingly’ in there to baffle us into accepting deep down he’s actually Mr Nice. Really, really fucking deep down, in his fortified basement beneath several sacks of lye.

Social media isn’t the cause of questionable opinions, it’s just where dickheads get caught. What used to be the preserve of a certain brand of cab driver is now available to all at the stab of a few buttons, as demonstrated by another recent example.

You are a fucking monkey

Ooh ooh

Aah aah

Cunt coon monkey nigger

If he hadn’t picked an absolute God among men, Ian Wright, as the target of this abuse, young Patrick O’Brien may have been allowed to continue scraping his forehead along the pavements of County Kerry without his collar being felt by the Gardai. But Sir Ian made it public, and what the police describe as an ‘adult male teenager’ was forced to hand himself in. His life isn’t likely to be the same again – unless we believe his side of things: he was hacked. That was his immediate, go-to response to this frightful mix-up. 

When I was not long past the realm of adult male teenager I was made redundant by Sky, and no clearly I wouldn’t work for those fuckers now but my brain was a bit hacked back then. Anyway, as I worked through the last few days writing match previews for Planet Football in a state of some aggrievement, I added an entry to a page on the history of the company to say that a once-thriving, multi-journalist helmed enterprise had been bought up by Uncle Rupert and replaced by a fat man scrubbing one out in a bedsit in Portsmouth so Sky could afford more ‘tache wax for Souness. 

My humourous sabotage was discovered within a few days. Upon being told they’d planned to bring a few of us back after a restructuring, me included, but it now wasn’t possible in my case, I claimed someone else had done it using my login and that I was as livid as they were. I was an early victim of online hacking! Or rather a desperate liar trying to roll back a disastrous decision so blatantly that it demeaned all involved. That I was ultimately much better off out of that job means I can laugh about it now. At the time, well, what little sympathy I have for Patrick O’Brien originated in a fetid if imaginary south-coast wank cavern.

But I don’t have much sympathy for Patrick. Neither do I for spectacular cocksman Anthony Weiner, who claimed his social media was hacked when the first of many pictures of his bulging member were released into the wild. Nor indeed Arsenal’s reserve keeper Emiliano Martinez, who claimed he was hacked when ‘someone’ ‘liked’ a post calling for then-manager Unai Emery to be fired, even though that’s what we all wanted at the time and if he’d owned it he’d be a club legend by now and we’d probably have won the league I reckon. 

Nor Hulk Hogan, who did or didn’t call his fans idiots and morons. Nor Serj Tankian with ‘someone’s’ controversial views on Nagorno-Karabakh. Nor supreme pervert Samir Nasri who got hacked when he maybe had a lady of the night round for tea. Nor a giant selection of NFL stars with thoroughly American names like Darrelle Revis, who just have no fucking clue most of the time. Anyway, I guess it’s possible these people have actually been hacked. And I’ll leave that there. 

Drunk or stupid celebrities hacking themselves to death are comedy fodder for all, but idiots posting nasty shit are a genuine concern. No doubt there are individual psychological factors at play when opinions are formed. There isn’t a person raised calmly and sensibly in a loving household who comes to racism, homophobia and the rest without some momentous event causing it, like the fireman’s hat being temporarily taken by a brown kid at nursery once. Add to that people who had a genuinely poor or unhappy upbringing and there’s a hefty pool of screwed-up individuals primed and ready for a few hours’ nodding at Fox News. The press doesn’t create these people any more than the existence of food is what makes you hungry.

But none of that is an excuse for not fucking owning it. If you have these views, no matter why, admit it to yourself first, and then the rest of us when you’re caught out. If that’s what makes you, accept it. Either learn from it and make yourself better – because I’m not fucking about, these beliefs are absolutely, objectively wrong – or recognise you’re best relegated to the fringes of society where your views are acknowledged and allowed, as all views should be, but never permitted to influence policy or programming schedules in any sphere anywhere at any time forever.

We’re approaching the summit of all this though, and here’s what the view will be like. The Twatter-in-Chief will finally post something that even Ted Howze disavows, and he’ll face real opprobrium from all areas of the media and across politics. He’ll then claim his account was hacked. The loons in the boondocks, obviously, will believe it.

He’ll say it was China, in league with Twitter, who he’s always had a problem with, really nasty people. The whole of the left, led by Commie China, are trying to end American Freedom. If this is happening before the 2020 election, he’ll run on a platform of defending America from the Great Chinese Hack. If it’s after, he’ll use it to try for a third term. And millions will buy it. Maybe enough millions.

The only way that’s implausible is if there’s nothing he could say that would be offensive enough to cause genuine uproar. I mean, he got away with telling American-born ethnic minority Congresswomen to “go back and help fix the totally broken and crime infested places from which they came”, so maybe we’re already beyond the apogee, but if anyone can it’s The Dotard.

Claiming you’ve been hacked makes you exactly the kind of ‘pussy’ you’re always branding people with more mainstream views. And, by the way, it’s about time we reclaimed the word mainstream and once again let it mean ‘standard’, ‘normal’ or ‘average’. While we’re at it we can take back the time-honoured phrase ‘what the fuck’ from despicable bastards bent on adding the word ‘actual’ into it.

If you just won’t learn to play nice, say what you really want and lean into it. Let us tell the real monsters apart from the screeching-but-harmless Katie Hopkins types begging for attention, so we know where to build the cages. We’ll come and visit, to marvel at your fabulous necks of brass. We’ll keep you fed and watered, and, mindless beasts that you are, you’ll be happy, soiling yourself and rolling in hay.

Though of course, if you can read, and decide to come looking for me, I never suggested any such thing.

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