Glitter Ye Not
I was glad that the Gary Glitter Twitter (if not for his misdemeanours and that his name was already rhyming slang with something else, ‘glitter’ would be good rhyming slang for Twitter, eg “It’s all over Gary Glitter – the Backstreet Boys are back together and touring North America in the new year”) page was a fake. Or rather a social experiment as the account’s creator termed it. He justified the account saying it was to highlight that convicted paedophiles are allowed to have Twitter acccounts. Credit where it’s due the guy uses just the number 48 to signify 48 hours as in ‘I’ve had loads of emails in the last 48’ but, that doesn’t make this the best way to highlight child sex predators lurking on the internet. If anything it highlighted that lots of people are prepared to find Gary Glitter forgiven/funny/ok if he was launching a comeback.
It SEEMED to me like it wasn’t making a point and was just someone doing something for attention. He did keep his name private though. And it did highlight the issue of Gary Glitter hypothetically being able to open a Twitter account. And that because GG is famous, child-sexer or not, people will be attracted to the flame like a moth to a more famous and wealthy moth at a premier of a moth film. You could argue that I am here writing about it – but I am really writing about how it’s not raised the issue of sexual predators on the internet; it all seems more like a prank than anything else. There is not an iota of Brass Eye about this and more of a Beadle’s About stench.
Footnote: while I think peadoing is an illness and rehabilitation and such is what any society should react to such an illness with, I was a bit disturbed by the people who fell for it being SO welcoming to Paul Gadd. While he had several catchy glam-rock hits it is worth remembering he has moved all over the world to carry on having sex with under-age girls. This is a big no-no where I am concerned. I know I can come across as very liberal at times but – and I’m sorry if I offend anyone here – Gary Glitter can fuck off if he’s going to carry on having sex with children, he should just completely stop the whole enterprise. And that includes looking at pictures.
Downton My Luck
I am quite late to the whole Downton Abbey lark. While many people were saying the Christmas special was a return to form after the ridiculous second series had muddied the pleasure at the opening series, I was still a stranger to the show. Today I watched some of it. Some might say I deserved whatever displeasure it caused; I’d quibble with this as I bought it as a gift..surely this means I shouldn’t suffer, doesn’t it? Well it’s all as hypothetical as fuck because I quite enjoyed it.
It certainly offered nothing new. I’ve seen upstairs/downstairs interaction before, I can’t remember the name of the programme though. Boom boom.Of course I can remember, it was You Rang M’Lord and also in the film Gosford Park. Was it clear I was just doing a joke about Upstairs Downstairs? And the storylines I have seen so far have all been done in some other show about servants and poshers. That doesn’t stop it being done rather well though and in a quite a charming way.
This would probably be more relevant if you read it in October 2010.
I quickly realised I had no-one to identify with in the cast of a TV programme where doctors looked down on in the way a doctor might look down on me: like they were scum. I also couldn’t have seen a 1910 version of myself as part of a downstairs staff. Let’s face it I’d have been out of my face on gin when I wasn’t doing a 43-hour shift in a cotton mill – pausing occasionally to criticise Ernest Mangnall’s managing of the infant Manchester United (were we in September 1912 I’d be more than criticising the shit-hatted cunt. Not that I have any issues with events that happened 70 years before I was born involving turncoat Bolton cunts like him).
I know what you are thinking – yes but did you have a neckerchief on all day?