17 October 2009

Poor Jan Moir

I'm a bit late with this, so I'm sure you've all read the offending article and its fuckwit follow-up. So I'd like to ask you a question: how much do you know about Stephen Gately? Obviously fans will know a shitload more but let's face it, he was a fairly normal member of a band I don't like, who generally kept a low public profile. In fact, like most non-fans, I'd pretty much forgotten about him until he died. You can't expect me to know that much about the guy. But here's everything I do know:
  • Boyzone
  • Irish
  • Gay
  • Dead
That's more than enough for someone who isn't interested in Boyzone or where famous people put their willies. And if I hadn't known a single thing, really, neither of our lives would have been in the slightest bit different. But I'm not a journalist. My income doesn't depend on expressing spontaneous opinions on stiffs I never knew

Jan Moir's does. She's a professional journalist. When Gately inconsiderately died on her, she had to write something or else she would have been one of the people who didn't write about him. But Jan Moir is not just not that bright, and probably knows even less than those four facts. She desperately needs to link something to his death, or, well, what would she write? It's like when they kept finding those girls in Austrian cellars. I mean who the fuck knows anything about Austria for fuck's sake? So you've just got to link it to the Nazis. Always happens when you have to cover a story you know fuck all about. The serious uninformed journalist must strike a balance between free-association and uninformative whiffle. "Yewhat? Either you're joking about a man's death or you're serious, and I don't know which is worse" or "What the fuck was the point in me reading that then? I knew he was dead already so why don't you tell me something I don't know you pointless, overpaid cow?" Jan Moir, being particularly vulnerable to accusations of being a pointless, overpaid cow, must tread especially carefully. The untimely death of Stephen Gately has, therefore, three possible explanations:

  • Irish: You know, you could pull this off maybe. Heart conditions can be exacerbated by drinking, and everyone knows how the Irish like a drink. A few Irish people might complain, but it's not like they dodged that bullet anyway. It might look racist, but then you can always play the PC card and shout "You can't even insult someone because of their race without being called a racist". The only problem with this approach, really, is that we've been making Irish jokes for so long nobody takes them seriously.

  • Boyzone: See, you could pull off "The Curse of Boyzone" if one of them had died or gone off the rails before. In fact someone's probably got one all written up ready for the next one. But it just doesn't work on the first fatality. That's still an 80% survival rate. You could maybe insinuate that, instead of a few rounds of canasta, they had invited the other guy round for three-part harmonies, but that would have been a bit of a busman's holiday.

  • Gay: It's the only rational choice. Gayness, unlike Boyzone, is something people generally do in private, so you have absolutely no idea what it really involves. Also, very few people genuinely believe stupid shite about the Irish these days, but there's still a lot of people believe a lot of bollocks about gays, how they bum and what they do (drugs) when they're not bumming or doing their gay jobs. Yeah, there'll be complaints, and you'll finally prove to the world what a sorry excuse for a human being you are, but people will read your article and find it vaguely informative and stimulating.
Best of all, you won't have had to do a blind bit of research, you can just let stereotypes and readers' own prejudice do all the work for you, leaving you free to carry on championing gay rights.

But it looks like the Mail will have the last laugh anyway. Take that twitter! Man, I bet the blogosphere is quaking in its boots.

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