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by huw.Y.WattfromWare » Mon Mar 15, 2021 4:30 pm
Saw this on fb today and agree with every word.
I see you, Piers Morgan.
I see your petulant snarl, arms folded, cheeks puffed out like a constipated baby. It was always going to come to this, wasn’t it? You’ve been allowed to feast on whatever controversy you've desired for years now. You've overindulged yourself, becoming bloated and unstoppable. It finally got to the point where nobody at ITV was strong enough to pick you up and burp you any more. They created a monster, feeding the fragile ego of a bullying hack and professional narcissist, building the hollow legend of a parasitical blowhard who’s always vastly overestimated his own cultural importance. You became the epitome of everything that’s wrong with outrage punditry and social media; the traffic is all that counts, and the casualties crushed under its wheels mean nothing.
It’s been distinctly unnerving to find myself agreeing with you every now and then over the last couple of years, as the targets of your tantrumming sideshow act occasionally lined up with my own. Thankfully it only ever took five minutes, each and every time, before you’d revert to type and once again reveal your true nature. All the attacks on a dishonest and incompetent government were quickly balanced out by whatever pivot you’d then make to some other imaginary clickbait nonsense. Every time you verged on developing some actual integrity you’d undermine it, proving definitively that you’ve never had more actual substance than a wet tissue full of mucus. You’re a professional button-pusher; it was inevitable that in your manufactured fits of righteous temper, even you would occasionally prod the right ones. Even a stroppy cock is right twice a day.
As much as I’d love to declare your departure from GMB as some kind of victory, I suspect it’s anything but. You’ve spent years proving yourself as the most buoyant turd in the cesspit, and I see no reason to expect anything less than another resurgence. There’s a bidding war for your ‘talents’ going on even now between GB News and Murdoch. The future of the British press is a nightmare written in ****, where impartiality is recast as leftwing bias, peaceful protests are violent displays of Marxist extremism, and anything other than a slavish commitment to the rightwing narrative is ‘cancel culture.’ Even after everything that’s happened this week the future career of a pathetically fragile man - whose aggressive hatred of Meghan Markle is born solely out of her polite rejection of him - is being fought over like prize gammon by the two mangiest dogs in the fight.
It’s no wonder that your ego can’t handle rejection, Piers Morgan. You’ve mistaken the zeroes you can add to a broadcaster’s profit margins simply by stirring the pot as a yardstick for genuine charisma. The suggestion that a woman could meet you for a drink, and then want nothing more to do with you, is incomprehensible when viewed through the distortions of that particular prism. You got on fabulously, you insist. What you mean is that you talked at Meghan Markle for three hours and then she went home, having quietly decided that she’d rather feed herself feet-first into an industrial lathe than tolerate your company ever again. The projection in your insults at her is so tangible that we can practically taste the bitterness of it all. She’s a ‘social climber?’ Really? True or not, that’s a rich tea biscuit coming from a man who’s spent so many years sucking up to the false idols of modern celebrity that his cat’s arsehole of a mouth has physically inverted.
Nothing ever changes. Day becomes night, night becomes day, and Piers Morgan cycles between his twin roles of champion of free expression and tedious, bullying hack. The rollercoaster is all part of the act, as carefully engineered as any other, maximising clicks and revenue and engorging your bank balance ever further. I’ve no doubt that you’ll come out of this latest controversy as the frontman of whichever propaganda network emerges on top.
That’s the biggest and most grotesque irony in all of this. That it’s actually perfectly permissible to scream oppression and then use that narrative as a foundation to build a profitable media brand for yourself.
You’ve just got to be a middle-aged white man and a total, weapons-grade, copper-bottomed bellend for it to work. That’s the only piece of the puzzle Meghan Markle was missing.
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