Still not calling it X

There are things in this world that I understand. Actually, I may have got ahead of myself with that statement. I don't really know how Wi-Fi works or why the bushes are now full of single-use vapes. I remember when it was all disposable Covid masks. If you want to take the temperature of the nation, trawl the gutters next to its motorways: we are a nation of energy drinkers, of fast food eaters, of vapers. Makes you proud. 

There are a great many things that I don't understand, and lately one of those things is Laurence Fox. Scion of a (variable) acting dynasty, former surfboard-stiff side-kick to Kevin Whately, monotone synth-pop musician, failed politician, failed husband, and perennial irritant whose continued, sustained presence in public discourse is as baffling as those other noted poisoners-of-the-well, Katie Hopkins and Nigel Farage. I mean, there's millions of these fuckers now, and Katie seems to have lost a bit of ground to Julia Hartley-Brewer, but as far as I can see they're the Big Three, because they so obviously have nothing going for them except a willingness to be that cunt. They relish it. They lap it up. What's the worst possible take I can have on something? That's my take. That's what I'm going for. I don't know what sort of sour, tangy dopamine hit they get from being continually, shamelessly fucking horrible, but they're in the grip of an addiction. They can't leave it alone. "Wokeism" - a meaningless and thus endlessly malleable phrase - is an itch they can't scratch. But by fuck they have a go, rubbing their arses against a tree, left a bit, right a bit. Aaaah. 

Gonna need an ocean of chamomile lotion. 

Fox is a flailing, sweaty, rent-a-furore. He's currently in the news for going on GB News - that fecal sluice - and saying he would ignore journalist, Ava Evans, who said something he didn't like, in a bar, referring to her as a "little woman". He added "Show me a single self-respecting man who would like to climb into bed with that woman ever, ever, who wasn't an incel". He later added "Who'd want to shag that?" and he and host Dan Wootton laughed. 

The leader of The Reclaim Party, Ladies and Gentlemen. And, to be fair, those comments are consistent with his parties aims and ideals. 

The fall-out from this is that the host hurriedly apologised to Evans, twice, claiming that Fox' comments were in no way shape or form indicative of the policies of GB News, and the Channel cancelled Fox. Fox retaliated by showing a series of texts between himself and Wootton laughing about the whole thing and explaining that he'd done a pre-interview and the channel knew exactly what he was going to say. GB News then suspended Dan Wootton. The moral, if moral is the right word in this fetid pool, of this story is there is no one Laurence Fox will not chuck under a bus. 

Ava Evan's will walk away from this collision bruised but unbowed. Wootton will probably be fine and if he isn't *shrugs*. Fox will find strength from this latest outrage, sucking up the oxygen of publicity like a diver with the bends. And as usual the biggest loser with be Billie Piper, who trends on Twitter every time her vile ex-husband says or does something deliberately harmful to society. Every time hapless fuckwits of every political stripe tag her in their shit. How she is still on social media I will never know. The resilience of the woman. 

Every day for the last two weeks Twitter has suggested, in it's "Who To Follow" section, to suggest "Laurence Fox" and "The Reclaim Party". There's no way of turning off their recommendations and there's surely nothing in my blandly inoffensive adverts for my various projects that are roundly ignored. Or my various blogs that are roundly ignored. It's not the algorithms. I'm not feeding them this shit. It's Twitter itself. It wants me to see this awful horror. It wants me to be outraged. It wants me to hate-post, to join in with its baying on-line mob, and Fox wants that too. He wants to bathe in my frustrated tears. It galvanises him, makes him stronger. He smiles, energised, as another cuck libtard has been triggered. He's halfway to an erection. Nearly, Laurence, so close. 

But no. 

I'm getting the fuck out of Twitter. It's a filthy decadent, corrupting model, a privatised British water company pouring untreated sewage into the world's mind. I'm gone. Until I have a book or film to pimp, obviously.