Blinded By THE SUN – Tweet! Tweet!

GARY GLITTER IS ON TWITTER!!! 

Lock up your daughters!! Or, as if indeed it is actually Paul Francis Gadd ‘tweeting’* nobody needs locking away from the hapless reviled old aged pensioner, and certainly nobody need fear the man. To suggest they do is to swallow, hook line & sinker, everything the tabloid press have fed you about their favourite whipping boy.

(*As suspected, the Twitter account was not Glitter/Gadd but the work of some strange agent of morality – it was, apparantly a “social experiment” to find out how sex offenders could, shock horror, have access to the Worldwide Web after they have served their time. I call it ‘trolling’)

The tabloid press – particularly the Murdoch-owned press – have been overly successful in convincing an entire nation that a hammy pop star of yesteryear is in fact ‘Public Enemy No.1’. The question people should ask (well, do sheep ask questions?) is how on earth, in an informed and civilised society, does the very mention of an old pop star’s alias get people foaming at the mouth and issuing demented and often illiterate statements on internet forums as if he’s a mass child rapist (which he isn’t, by the way). To understand why, we have to go back in time.

Once upon a time in 1972 there was a singer/entertainer called Paul Gadd. Mr Gadd had been recording for over 10 years with little success under alias’s such as Paul Raven and Paul Monday. Noting the success in 1971 of the glitter-faced Marc Bolan with T.Rex, Gadd and his long-standing mentor Mike Leander (who was a very experienced producer, writer and arranger, having even worked with The Beatles on ‘Sgt Pepper’) jokingly suggested new guises – and came up with the name Gary Glitter. They came up with a stomping – and pretty unique sounding – track called Rock & Roll, and this slowly climbed the UK charts, becoming a massive hit that summer. Gadd, Leander & their group The Glitter Band followed Rock & Roll with a series of excellent follow-ups, but – as is typical in the pop game – by late 1974 his star was starting to dip and the singles became less impressive. By early 1976 Gary Glitter, having released a couple of ‘flop’ singles, announced he was ‘retiring’. However, by January 1977 he was on the comeback trail amidst a flurry of headlines about drink problems, weight gain, depression etc – and so began Gary Glitter’s close relationship with the tabloid press. Over the years he was kept in the news, announced multiple ‘comebacks’ and released various low-selling and little known singles. He had a slight renaissance in 1984 with two (decent actually) hits and by the late 80s had built up a cult following as a live act. In spite of little of note recording-wise, by the mid-90’s he was a big celebrity again, a ‘legend’, hosting Top Of The Pops every December – and all basically down to recording a handful of great glam rock singles some 20 years previous. What did Gary Glitter have at this point that his peers – Alvin Stardust, Barry Blue, Suzi Quatro, The Sweet – didn’t have to maintain this celebrity?

The answer, somewhat lost in time now, is Gary Glitter owed his celebrity status in the 90s almost entirely to the British Tabloids. Despite releasing little music of note, The Sun and it’s sister paper News Of The World  had kept him in the news since his first ‘comeback’ in 1977. It’s also prudent to note at this point that, personality-wise, Gary Glitter was always much the same. He was always egotistical, always a ‘little strange’, always had a fondness for young (teens & 20s) girls – and never sought to conceal any of these traits. His songs have always been somewhat salacious (‘Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah)’, ‘Hard On Me’ (chorus of ‘Hard On… Hard On.. Me’), ‘What Your Mama Don’t See (Your Mama Don’t Know)” etc) and self-aggrandising, he was always a figure of (self) ridicule – he was an old ‘young’ pop star in his 30s with a tendency to put on weight, a strange kind of pin-up in the age of Bolan & Bowie. A lot of people he encountered back then disliked the prima donna. Why, then, did he secure so much support from the nations biggest-selling tabloids for so long? We can only speculate.

So, we’re in late 1997. Gary Glitter, 53 years of age and his ‘hit’ days now over 20 years ago, is a “legend”, a big star. He tours annually, hosts TV shows and has just – as a musical ‘legend’ – appeared in a cameo role in the Spice Girls “SpiceWorld” movie. He had a song-writing credit on Oasis’ multi-million selling album of the decade ‘(What’s The Story) Morning Glory’ and everything in his garden is rosy. Then he decides to take his computer in for a repair at PC World. They find photographs of child sexual abuse on his hard-drive, and whilst there is no evidence he was anyway involved in the photographs it has now become a criminal offence to be ‘in possession’ of such pictures, and Paul Francis Gadd is duly arrested and charged. This left the ‘Voice Of The Nation’ (The Sun/NOTW) with a problem, here was a man whom – in their eyes – they had ‘made’. And here he was exposed to the world as someone who, if not a paedophile (a much abused term, if you pardon the pun, that means someone sexually attracted to pre-pubescent children), had sought out, for some kind of gratification, pictures of child abuse most of us would find repugnant.

At this stage, Gary Glitter decides, understandably. to adopt a much lower profile as he waits for his case to go to trial. Kelvin McKenzie and co, who had made this Gary Glitter a lot of money over the past 20 years, now went on the attack of their once favourite son. Max ‘Cheque Book’ Clifford went trawling for some ‘rent-a-victims’ but all he could come up with was a girl who, many years previously, had allegedly had a relationship with Glitter when she was under the age of consent. He was charged with this too, but – having pleaded guilty to possession of the child abuse photo’s (I refuse to call it ‘pornography’, it is bringing the word into disrepute), he pleaded Not Guilty to the new charge and it was heard in court. Whilst the trial was ongoing it came to light that, surprise surprise, the News Of The World had entered into contract with this ‘victim’ that, if they secured a conviction, they would pay her a princely sum as reward. This irregularity got the court case thrown out, and the ‘victim’, Waxy Maxy and the News Of The World an embarrassing and very public reprimand from the trial Judge. Glitter was sentenced for possessing the distasteful images of child abuse, served a few months in prison, came out and gave a press conference apologising for his misdemeanours and then promptly, on the face of it, disappeared. What happened was, at this point, he was actually told in no uncertain terms that his old long-term backers at News Group were most put out by their embarrassing exposure in the previous years trial and they would, by hook or by crook, ‘get him’. Understandably (though in hindsight foolishly) Paul Gadd fled the UK to escape this. Never the wisest of men he headed for places where he thought he would be free of Murdochian influence and not ‘Public Enemy No.1’. He went to Cuba, but News Group associates caught up with him there and started to hound him. He went to Cambodia where he thought he’d be safe – they caught up with him there. From there on it was Vietnam, but he didn’t reckon on the tenacity of long-time News Group Freelancer Andrew Drummond and the deep pocket’s of Murdoch’s men bankrolling their revenge. However, the fool sought solace in countries where he wouldn’t be hung, drawn and quartered by the masses but where, as he found to his cost, crimes and convictions can be bought for a round of drinks. The justice system of Vietnam is extremely dubious, but it sealed the fate of Gary Glitter in securing a ‘real’ conviction of abuse and thus completing their mission. Here in the UK people see Gary Glitter as a monster, someone who rapes and molest young children – a convicted paedophile. He is seen in the same light as real monsters – the Ian Huntley’s and Roy Whiting – real child killing monsters. What good does this do when he isn’t? It serves to undermine the cause of child protection, not strengthen – to scaremonger needlessly. Why has this been done – to whitewash over the fact that, had it not been for the editors of Britain’s tabloid newspapers Gary Glitter’s arrest in 1997 would have been, at best,  a few column inches. And yet, in 2009 Channel 4 screened an (awful) faux documentary “The Execution Of Gary Glitter” – instead of the makers of that focussing their attention on real child killers/rapists, a man who had served his time for the crimes he was convicted of and subsequently freed was again humiliated further.

They – the tabloids – made this man they now revile a “legend”. They in turn made him a “monster”. In truth he is neither, he is an elderly entertainer with a (very) chequered past. Most people in the entertainment business knew of his fondness for ‘jailbait’ when he was a bonafide pop star, it’s simply that it wasn’t an issue in the 70s or 80s, the attitude of the now moralising press was “Nudge Nudge, Wink Wink cor look at this Page 3 Girl she’s 16 today!” If we apply todays moral code to the 60s and 70s most – if not all – rock legends and entertainers would be guilty of ‘child abuse’ vis-a-vis inappropriate behaviour with (slightly) underage girls, it was a ‘perk of the job’ from Simon Dee and Jimmy Savile to Jimi Hendrix and Jimmy Page, moist starstruck 15 years sat on Mr Entertainer’s lap to Mr Wild Rock Legend chalking up notches on their international bed posts. Was it right, was it wrong? Who’s to say? I know that the decision cannot be made for us though by an immoral tabloid steeped in corruption. To get to the stage when, on the strength of tabloid influence we see the BBC editing one old rock star out of history by re-editing documentaries and old editions Top Of The Pops is beyond ridiculous because there but for a malicious accusation go every other entertainer and musicians career and reputation. Why did the tabloids effectively sponsor his post-1976 career, what pact did he make with these people? Why him? Yes, he was a great showman with a time-honed stagecraft and musically he made a great impact in 1972/73 before his pantomime act took over the music quality – but he would have been nothing but a footnote in music history by the time of his arrest were it not for the agenda of the tabloid press for 20 years who awarded him more column inches and headlines than his talent befitted. If I sound like I am being overly critical of his subsequent musical efforts, I am not – for what he did inside 3 years is more than most dream of, and his subsequent success as a live performer speaks for itself.

All who choose to condemn Gary Glitter should ask themselves this: are they basing their condemnation on facts or on the agendas of people like Kelvin McKenzie, Paul McMullan, Rebecca Brooks and Rupert Murdoch. And did any of these tabloid hacks ever create a record as great as “Rock & Roll pts 1 & 2” or “Do You Wanna Touch Me”? Did they create one of the greatest ever Christmas singles? Have the critics and the hacks ever brought pleasure to people en masse as Glitter did with Mike Leander with those great singles, have they raised the roof with great live shows, did they influence the core of great UK pop stars from the punk & new wave era?

Those who choose, still, in the face of Leveson, in the face of the NOWT closure and in the face of the fact that, as a hunted man for 13 years, the best ‘abuse’ the Murdoch hacks could come up was a phony bought conviction in a country with no justice and very little morality, brand Gary Glitter as Public Enemy Number One are guilty not of ‘raising the profile of child protection’ but of reducing an important issue down to the level of a cartoon.

Anyone who thinks, in 2012, that Gary Glitter is a predatory threat to children – which would, incidentally, make them “wiser” than both UK Courts & Police – should simply not be allowed to be in charge of children themselves. Get real.

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LYRICAL ASSASSINS #1: KEVIN ROWLAND

Words are important in music, but it takes a special talent to write simple sounding lyrics of an incredible depth within the confines of a archetypal pop song. Kevin Rowland managed to make a succession of incredible white soul nuggets with Dexy’s Midnight Runners in the early 80s, many of them Top Ten pop hit singles which contained remarkable – and on paper seemingly downright unwieldy – a remarkable skill. He was a lyrical genius, perhaps even more in that very few people realised at the time. The opening words to the two verses of the most overplayed 80s song:”Poor old Johnnie RaySounded sad upon the radio, he moved a million hearts in mono.

Our mothers cried and sang along and who’d blame them”

“These people round here wear beaten down eyes

Sunk in smoke dried faces they’re so resigned to what their fate is

But not us, (no never) no not us (no never)

We are far to young and clever”

Or Geno, a UK number one single in the Spring of 1980:

“On a night when flowers didn’t suit my shoes

After a week of flunking and bunking school

The lowest head in the crowd that night

Just practicing steps and keeping out of the fights

Academic inspiration, you gave me none ”

Or this nugget from the album Searching For The Young Soul Rebels:

“Lord have mercy on me

Keep me away from Leeds

I’ve been before; it’s not what I’m looking for”

There There My Dear, a Top Ten single from the long hot summer of 1980, sounds like a soul record – unorthodox soul, but soul nonetheless – but is supposed to be an open letter to a pretentious bourgeois (then) NME type

“Dear Robin

Hope you dont mind me writing, its just that there’s more than one thing I need to ask you. If you’re so anti-fashion, why not wear flares instead of dressing down all the same? Its just that looking like that I can express my dissatisfaction.

Dear Robin

Let me explain, though youd never see in a million years. Keep quoting Cabaret, Berlin, Burroughs, J.G. Ballard, Duchamp, Beauvoir, Kerouac, Kierkegaard, Michael Rennie. I dont believe you really like Frank Sinatra.

Dear Robin

You’re always so happy, how the hell do you get your inspiration? You’re like a dumb patriot. If you’re supposed to be so angry, why dont you fight and let me benefit from your right? Dont you know the only way to change things is to shoot men who arrange things,

Dear Robin

I would explain but you’d never see in a million years. Well, you’ve made your rules, but we don’t know that game, perhaps Id listen to your records but your logic’s far too lame and I’d only waste three valuable minutes of my life with your insincerity.

You see Robin, Im just searching for the young soul rebels, and I can’t find them anywhere. Where have you hidden them?

Maybe you should welcome the new soul vision”

That he made that diatribe into a snappy cognitive three-and-a-half-minute soul hit is incredible.

 

Crystal Ball Comedy Axis – Yesterdays Jokes, Todays Reality

Whilst I am always the first to mourn and moan that the 21st century has lacked the cultural colour of the preceding decades – something that doesn’t see any improvement when removing my ‘rose-coloured glasses’ – time and distance has helped me see that the opening decade of this millennium were defined by a trio of cutting-edge and completely different comedy creations. Distance has been necessary for different reasons – two of the three suffered from over-saturation and endless repeats on digital station whilst the third has been left to accrue it’s own cult status having only been granted one showing (possibly due to the bite-the-hand-that-feeds nature of that beast), but together all three capture what it both wrong and right with UK television and culture as we stumble aimlessly through this new decade.

Casting aside for the sake of this discussion the majesty that is Steve Coogan’s Alan Partridge – rightfully in pema-rotation circa 2003 but very much a 90’s creation – there are 3 comedies that have collectively captured the zeitgeist of the ‘noughties’, and all that is both right and wrong in UK society with the gift of comedy.

The Office, which arrived on our screens in the summer of 2001, was the brainchild of two annoying and self-congratulatory comedians Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant. In the flesh these two seem to represent all that is wrong with the ‘people of the noughties’ and yet, as with their recent An Idiot Abroad series starring the laconic Karl Pilkington, their ability to craft and develop truly original television – always with serious structure laced with the under-current of comedy, and yet never  far from a belly-laugh – is unsurpassed in recent times, despite their own  “acquired taste” forays into stand-up. In my opinion, The Office succeeded due it pillorying the lamentable (and still sadly common) cheaply-made reality tv shows that grant a millisecond of fame to self-important ‘everymen’ in the execution of their day-jobs and in which these people are led to believe by the makers of these shows that they are ‘important’. It worked because it was true, these characters may seem on face value to be caricatures but the fact remains we all know real-life David Brent’s (I’ve had to misfortune to work with at least three), Finchy’s and Gareth Keenan’s (plenty of those at the Humber Bridge, I can assure you) and there’s plenty of us who could emphasise with the long-suffering Tim Canterbury (played expertly by Martin Freeman). That, ten years later and in spite of the show’s over-exposure, we still have to endure reality television programmes full of smug policemen waxing lyrical of how they always think this, that and the other etc speaks volumes about just how right Gervais, Merchant & co got The Office – they kept it to two series in order to nullify overkill, and still it sums up reality television – people who cringed at David Brent are still making their colleagues cringe without so much as realising it. That general workplace roles are becoming more and more benign as time goes on also emphasise just how ‘on the button’ the series remains.

Leigh Francis’ Bo Selecta captured the zeitgeist of post-millennium vacuous celebration of celebrity worship by resolutely taking the piss out of most of them. It helped that the show was blessed with such originality that it was unlike any comedy before it, and the characters were so massively absurd (accents, mannerisms, catchphrases) yet steeped in real aspects of the celebrities satirising that it was either going to disappear without a trace or take-off. Such was the irony of post-modern C4/E4/T4 show-bizzy emptiness, Francis and his latex semi-human profane creations were welcomed into the mainstream with open arms by most of the fly-by night starlets who were the subject of the surreal lampooning (barring Craaaaiiiiig David of course, who never forgave the show for derailing his ‘serious soulman’ career and making him a figure of ridicule). The subjects of such lampooning were, in the main, fair game. I was late on the Bo Selecta bus, it was the summer 2003 when I stumbled upon the show and what I first saw – the latex “Mel B” talking in a broad Leeds accent about how she ‘fooked a tramp once’ saw me instantly hooked. The glue that linked the show together was the main character Avid Merrion – a ginger celebrity stalker. I always found Avid to be the weak link in the show, much as I find Keith Lemon to be somewhat overstated. The show eventually suffered from over-exposure (in the same way Lee Francis’ current comedy personality Keith Lemon has now) but the first three series are sufficiently barbed and genuinely funny as to stand the test of time well – the caricatures were absolutely ridiculous – David Beckham as an eternal toddler, Mel B dressed in leopard skin ‘loooking for a fooook’, Michael Jackson as a foul-mouthed Richard Pryor-alike etc – and yet therein lies the comedy genius (or ‘comedayyy’ as Michael Jackass would say) and yet quickly fell into the mainstream in spite of pillorying that very strand of entertainment. It was as if TV producers and the celebrities all adopted a ‘if you can beat em join em’ approach that continues to this day with people lining up to be on Celebrity Juice.

Over-exposure was never going to be an issue for the third genius comedy. Created by the dark lords of satire Chris Morris and Charlie Brooker Nathan Barley was shown on Channel 4 in early 2005 and destined never to be repeated. Despite featuring high-profile comedy actors Nicholas Burns and Julian Barratt, it came and went with a resounding whimper despite having wealth of talent behind it and an extraordinary attention to detail in its execution. There is probably a reason for this low profile – the show satirising the growing ‘post-ironic’ media set of the Shoreditch and Camden scenes, and these very people were the ones entering the word of television at that point, and the ones taking a hold of television right now. If you think television is bad now, these people are the reason. Nathan Barley himself is a self-aggrandising prick of epic proportions and developer of his own website (complete with faux-Banksy photography/graffiti) and collection of stooges amidst the shows other characters. His nemesis on the show, and effectively Barley’s hero too, is a writer called Dan Ashcroft who works for a trendy Vice-type magazine “Sugar Ape” (again with amidst a load of post-ironic trendy idiots who worship Barley) and who is credited at the beginning of the first show with writing a superb Brooker piece of “The Rise Of The Idiots”.  The series ends with Ashcroft being driven mad by Barley – and indeed we now find the mainstream media is now full of such characters. The series itself is dark genius, and I recommend it to anyone who appreciates ‘that sort of thing’ – it could well be the greatest thing either Brooker, Burns or Barratt have put their name to thus far, though with Black Mirror Brooker came very close to eclipsing NB (the jury is out with Chris Morris though).
All three comedy series represent a glimpse of a sad future – The Office as a tragic unironic glimpse of cheap reality television and the self-aggrandising of the ordinary prole in their execution of duty in their everyday jobs (opinions like arseholes one might say), Bo Selecta in it’s celebration of stupid celebrities and the absorbing of such stupidity into the mainstream – what price pride? – and Nathan Barley in it’s absurdist and yet uncannily accurate portrayal of the pricks now taking controlling our media and seemingly unable to take control of themselves. And yet, probably because of this not in spite of, all three series are – 7 to 10 years on – timeless comedy gold and shining examples of originality in comedy.

2011 – He-Man and The Masters Of The Universe (Dead Men Tell No Tales)

As 2011 spluttered to a close amidst more players falling off the World’s financial House Of Cards and ever-clueless “world leaders” regurgitating cliches, it’s hard not to consider that the Mayans have a point with their Doomsday Predictions. This is particular relevant when considering the most worrying trend of recent times, a cartoon-like retarded (and oh-so-American) attitude to “Enemies Of Democracy” (this used to be ‘Enemies Of The West’, but in these enlightened unenlightened times that is politically incorrect, “Democracy” – that failed tool of clandestine pseudo-freedom is for what ‘we’ fight). This might not be so alarming to the post-1989 babies who have grown up in a virtual world of internet, mobile perma-contact communication and realistic ultra-violent/ultra-absurd games but to those clear-headed enough to see just how beserk the past 12 months have been it doesn’t seem alarmist in the slightest to suggest we are entering a new phase of Western Imperialism.

It’s hard to say if the almighty United States Of America has upped their considerable ante as a reaction to the impending collapse of their Federal Reserve system of banking cum bullying, or if the bull-headed Yanks are being played by their NWO paymasters as an International Battering Ram as their particular agenda becomes ever-more ‘not so hidden’, but two main events of 2011 have seen the proverbial gloves come off.

Wikileaks – whatever one’s personal opinion of Mr Julian Assange and his own personal agenda/behaviour there can be no doubt that the all-out war declared by the USA on both Assange and the organisation he represents is the clearest indication yet of the abject immorality of the World’s 20th Century ‘School Bully’. As they exposed multiple secret scandals for the rest of the world to see, we have seen a ferocious attack that Wikileaks has addressed and exposed at every twist and turn. And yet the ‘rest of the world’ seems strangely silent on this – Wikileaks (and thus Assange and any of that organisations visible allies) are not just exposing wrong-doing, they are actually ‘Taking On The World’. The network of the Western World in turn is being exposed for what it is. Post-WW2, the United States Of America is not just the United States Of America but the UK (long since labelled the “51st State”), Sweden (as we’ve seen so clearly in the criminalising of Julian Assange), Israel and increasing pockets of the oil-rich Middle-East as well as it’s long-time plaything/punch-bag of various South American countries and a growing number of subserviant European countries too. This is why every leader in the world reads soullessly from cards condemning breaches of human rights in “rogue states”, waging war on counties packed with women and children on these grounds – and yet stands blinking as the USA forces Sweden and the UK to deliver up to them this one odd Australian who dares to expose the violent shams and disgusting double-standards of such Imperialism, and who breach their own supposed human rights standards one of their own soldiers for allegedly leaking and exposing the dirty tricks used by the USA in the far-off places in which they invade in the name of “peace”.

Which, naturally, leads me to the greatest global crimes of 2011 – the so-called “Arab Spring” and the large scale celebration of violence thereof. Even if we cast aside my belief that each and every one of those so-called “uprisings” were carefully contrived by agents of the USA/NWO – rebels trained and funded by the USA in their various global camps – and concentrate on what actually happened, what we have in actuality is shameless interfering by the usual suspects in what were internal matters of each country. Casting aside for a moment the pretentions of a crusade in favour of the Mighty Democracy, what happened in each of the affected countries were uprisings outside of the law. That the West appeared to immediately fall on the side of “any means necessary” rebels tells us all we need to know. Who is to say “democracy” should be inflicted on the whole of the world – it’s certainly proving to be a toothless beast, given the exposure in the UK right now of how another Australian managed to warp the whole concept to his own ends by basically owning a few large-selling newspapers – we have the ‘power’, it seems, to eternally choose frorm “more of the same” yet never to actually choose. Maybe this is why we decided to pick off several so-called ‘despots’ in the key mineral-rich areas highlighted – leaders who, like Saddam Hussein in Iraq, were all aided in their installations/’elections’ by the USA/NWO in order to keep said countries ‘stable’ (in the own way) – perhaps much in the same way one would put food in the freezer, to preserve for a time when it’s needed. Their time was up, “thanks for keeping the bed warm, we’re taking over now”. Egypt was highly dubious – here was a stable tourist destination that kept itself to itself and troubled no-one on a large scale – but was used a as the domino for which to kick off the ‘main prize’ which was of course Libya. Now there’s no doubting Muammar Gaddafi had a love/hate relationship with the west in much the same of the ‘other’ fearless egomaniac despot installed by the USA Saddaam Hussein. Both despots were clearly unhinged, but unlike Saddam – who had effectively crossed the line with America when he invaded their ‘pet’ Kuwait in 1990 – Gaddafi seemed to have been courting the West with increasing regularity in recent times. All of sudden though, as he defended his empire against armed, dangerous and seemingly ‘do no wrong’ rebels, he became a shock re-entry at Number 1 in the “International Public Enemy” charts. What became the real shock, and the real point of this blog, was the no-holds-barred coverage of his capture and execution. Here was a man who had been shaking hands with our own despot leader Tony Blair just 5 years earlier, and here was the so-called ‘free press’ parading explicit photo’s of his bloodied corpse on their front pages amidst gung-ho brainless headlines referring to a situation of almost 30 years previous (very much like saying Saddam Hussein was executed due to one cannon-fodder footsoldier copping for it in Iraq), and TV footage of his actual illegal execution on channels that would apparantly bawk at the suggestion they show footage of Gary Glitter miming to a 40 year old pop song on Top Of The Pops in the 70’s. We had already seen examples of barbaric brainless celebration of death earlier in the year – that of course it was ‘dumbass’ Americans getting all “Whoop! Whoop!” over a phantom ‘taking out’ by their forces of a phantom criminal mastermind who had been long dead anyway – but to see it embraced with such verocity by supposedly civilised Europeans was something else.

Perhaps we are heading towards late 2012 Armadeddon as predicted by those canny Mayans – but in the meantime, having elected a Half-Caste Robot in order to placate it’s “African-American” population (thank you, Sacha Baron Cohen!) Libya has given the dying dog that is the US Empire what it thinks is it’s key into the mineral rich continent of Africa (having spent the past 40 years spreading Henry Kissinger’s AIDS virus all over there to contain those pesky natives), and we have to endure game set-and-match with Iran (with the ever-boiling cauldron that is Syria in place as it’s Egypt-type domino).

God Bless America, and it’s NWO paymasters.

Not.