Conspiracy

I Know What I Don't Want, What I Really Really Don't Want

That New Mercedes

Don't Panic, Don't Panic

A Step Closer?

Paris Hilton?

Did Paris Hilton realise she was in jail or did she just think the room service was rubbish?

Brown promises to Wear the Right Dress

Get Him

I am, I am, I am

Send in the Riot Squad

We'd all like to see the riot police wading into these, the Henman Hoores.

Come on Tim!

Vital Move to Save Ulley Dam

Hasta la Vista Tony

A Tragic End

Just Between the Two of Us

If Only

it were this easy to to stop the rich and powerful getting away with murder, torture, corruption, sucking the world dry. You know who you are, you corrupt politicians and snake oil salesmen, you oil executives killing the world, you dictators keeping your peoples enslaved, you religious nutters killing for the peaceful religious life.

Paris Hilton is a mindless butterfly that is going to be broken on the judicial wheel.

Will she learn anything, not much probably, become a better person, unlikely. It's punishment pure and simple and we're enjoying it I hope for the fact that a rich person tried to twist the system and evade what society had decided what their punishment was and was caught.

Let's not kid ourselves though bigger criminals than this constantly evade, twist and manipulate the system every day. Let's see Bush, Blair, Mugabe, oooooh just off the top of my head, in the back of a police car being carted off to jail.

A Matter of Pressure, Financial Pressure

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

What We got Here is a Failure to Communicate

Miaow, Scratch Your Eyes Out

Found this a while ago. Justin Cartwright in the Guardian Review attempts to scratch Norman Mailer.

"Norman Mailer has had an extraordinary life: writing an early bestselling second world war novel, running for mayor of New York, boxing with pros, hobnobbing with celebrities, stabbing his wife, championing a killer who later killed again, writing about Gary Gilmore, invariably involved in some vendetta. In a sense he is the art his work never achieves, for all the huffing and puffing."

I just get the impression of a large lion's paw squashing this conceited little pussy.

Journalistic Heaven

A little while ago Janice Turner in The Times interviewed Christopher Hitchens, that god of journos. This is is the start of the article. One can only dream of of the old days; filing copy after a booze and story filled lunch-hour(s) and then back to the pub to be phoned by a sub, on the pub's phone, none of that mobile bollox, for a few questions, "can we say bloated whore-mongerer?"

As styled by central casting, Christopher Hitchens is wearing a cream linen foreign correspondent suit and Rayban Aviators. Small and a bit pudgy, he has his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his grizzled chest-rug, known by admirers as The Pelt of the Hitch. He greets me with highly wrought courtesy and the kind of long, blatant up-and-down appraisal that younger men of his class are now too egalitarian to try at business meetings.

Perhaps no journalist is so admired by his peers, in part because he has actually pulled off the life we imagined our profession would afford. Dashing off 1,000 épater le bourgeois words before a two-bottle lunch, blagging through war-zone checkpoints, starry parties, whisky-fuelled late-night geo-politics and crackling media feuds. Yet as most of hackdom has knuckled down to colourless, desk-bound sobriety, there is Hitchens, still larging it, a 3-D cartoon of what we might all have been, given his ego and intellect, his brass neck and neoprene liver.

He is Hunter S. Thompson cut with Gore Vidal, has broken America – as Vanity Fair columnist and a pop-up TV pundit – without even chipping his minor public school vowels.

A Perma-tanned Oleaginous Git

Hain's, the perma-tanned, oleaginous git, just noticed that maybe Blair has ignored Labour's natural voters as headlined in the Independent. After 10 years.

Ruth Kelly, the homophobic git, said that maybe the problem with ever increasing house prices might be caused by not building enough houses. You don't say and you've only just noticed after 10 years.

Mr Oily and Harriet, I'm too stupid to understand mortgages git, Harman have called for higher taxes on the rich. After 10 years.

Why didn't they say all of this any time in the last 10 years? Or didn't we hear as they had their heads stuck so far up Tony's arse.

Nobody can hear you in Tony's Arse.

That Special G8 Relationship

RIP Zakia Zaki

Three men broke into Zakia's home in Afghanistan and shot her seven times as she slept with one of her children. Zakia owned a radio station and people believe that she was executed because she believed in freedom of expression.

Now I might poke fun at the stupidities of women, and think that essentially men really have it sussed but this remorseless hatred of women that is all too evident in certain sections of certain societies has to be stamped out. This hatred is usually built on a deep insecurity about being men and a superstitious suspicion of women as the evil ones, the temptresses, the whore and mother split. This is evident in all parts of the world and where it has the upperhand then any woman who dares to speak out, criticise or being an independent human being then death is the sentence. Death by burning, death by stoning, death by shooting.

Brace Yourself - Hunophobia

A German journalist, Sabina Mueller from German Radio, asks a reasonable question at the McCanns press conference:



How do you feel about the fact that more and more people seem to be pointing the finger at you, saying the way you behave is not the way people would normally behave when their child is abducted and they seem to imply that you might have something to do with it?



I think tomorrow we'll see a storm of anti German headlines in the tabloids such as



KRAUT OF ORDER



Thanks to Hungry Hill at football365 for that, the debate there about the McCanns is as full and frank as anybody would like.



Baker Street Sax Solo, at football365, points out the backlash has already started in Glasgow

The Clowns Arrive in Rostock

Patronizing Tart

Slimeballs

Prime Minister's Question Time started and I saw the serried ranks of lickspittle toads and just thought slimeballs. Practically all MPs are self-serving, premier-class shits.

The Daily Postal

They'll be Pleased then