I stumbled on this forgotten post on an old defunct blog of mine. And when I say forgotten, I mean forgotten, I have only the vaguest memory of compiling the thing, oh dear!
I'm re-upping as is, although I might do some work on it when this busy period I'm experiencing, slacks off somewhat.
Although the post pre-dates another quite recent post: Body Language: Spotting the McCann's Lies You may wish to view it prior to this.
The intro may ramble a bit, it was probably clear enough at the time.
Reactions Are Somewhat Telling Aren't They? (Original Title Oct 2011)
Well! whose door am I going to lay this at? I have slagged off Twitter, having likened it to being poked periodically with a sharp stick. What was it that I said a few days ago, this I think?
But it's that damn Twitter thing, it's almost as if someone is poking me every couple of minutes with a sharp stick and saying, what about this then, you remember this bit dontcha? And that's the trouble, I do, and unfortunately, all too well.
But it would be unfair to single out Twitter for this very reluctant part time return to blog about injustice. Injustice personified by a slithering visage of the globules of evil that shape themselves into a vaguely human forms every now and again, the Doctors McCann.
And part time it will be, I must stress, for who would want to give their undivided attention to two bowls of discharge, who fuck for money but refuse to call themselves whores. To a couple so odious, that they make a living out of their dead child, and refuse equally to call themselves pimps.
No, it's like cleaning the bog I suppose, and just as attractive, something that must be done out of necessity, but not something you would want to do every day.
But Twitter becomes quite incidental after what we have all witnessed recently, the shameless face of corruption that masquerades as law enforcement here in these British Isles. It too flaunting itself as shamelessly as any desperate crack addicted street whore, all too wiling to fall to its knees and suck ageing, wrinkled, flaccid cock, providing the price is right. To say nothing of those among us that adopt the position, and eagerly cram their mouths with festering cock, free of charge. Free to them of course, but not so for us plebs, who ultimately pay the price for these parliamentary promiscuities.
No, justice and the the stalwart defenders of the law in this shabby country, are like justice itself, such rare animals, bordering on extinction, save perhaps for the odd one of its species, tucked away in some forgotten backwater.
What a sad state of affairs then, that is the status quo, where one has no recourse in seeking justice in the slightest. Where exists, from the very top to the very bottom of law enforcement and Parliament alike, such a degree of corruption as to be the envy of any third world banana republic. What an accolade!
So what is the answer? I wish I knew, but I know it does me no good as a person, to simply rail against injustice if I'm not prepared to speak out and be counted on the issue. As oppression can only survive through silence, much the same can be said of injustice.
And the third factor in my reluctant return, not something blameworthy, more a catalyst, and a very simple one at that, courtesy, I have to add, of the dreaded Twitter. This pertaining to another missing white girl, and lost on nobody, is why there is such an incredible interest in the McCannesque style disappearance of the infant. Neither I'm sure is it lost upon the McCanns, who if they don't have justice to look forward to, they can look forward to the same spotlight being refocussed on them every time a child disappears under similar circumstances. Understandably so.
I would have paid to see their reaction to the hoax sighting last night, I'm sure it was very telling!
Yes reactions are somewhat telling aren't they?
Which prompted me, in the middle of the night I might add, to scour Youtube, all be it to no avail, for a fifteen second clip. No harm done, I did come across the desired footage, in still a short clip, only this one includes Kate McCann's now iconic few seconds of squirming as she confesses, for all intents and purposes, two things. That she didn't 'physically search for Madeleine' and that she didn't do so, because there was no point. And if anybody doesn't see it that way, Scotland Yard included, then I have a bridge I want to sell you.
The moment is brief, but I hammered the capture key, and the result is below. If you think, why so many, it is only because experience has taught me to go with everything, because once you start to try and edit stuff out, it ends up quite simply, a mess. Not only that, it does give a better feel for the moment.
The key then to all this, the McCann's reaction to this question. (full transcript)
Amanda Walker: Just take us through the emotional experience that you go through from the moment that someone says 'I'm definite I've seen Madeleine' to when it's discounted.
I remind you, not that I have to, this and all other such material has been freely available on the net, to the public, successive governments, and law enforcement alike, for years.
It was only the other day that Ian Puddick informed us of the priorities of the new head of the Metropolitan Police, Bernard Hogan-Howe. Visit Ian Puddick's webpage, and he will inform you of one or two other things as well.
Video: MR Notbornyesterday
You couldn't make it up.
Not for the first time have I used stills from this interview, as you will see below. I had to cut the original in half in order for it to be read, reminding you that the main body of the text is a special report by yours truly on a Sun spectacular non-story, the Raymond Hewlett letter that never was
If you open these two up below, to full size, you will find a bit of satire in the text.