Poke Them With Soft Cushions! Murdoch faces the Spanish Inquisition
Much as I despise the BBC, when it comes to the big news events, there’s no doubt that ‘Aunty’ (as only BBC executives call ‘her’) is the place to watch moments of global importance or even this charade. There was only one story in town as the Murdochs faced those terrifying Torquemada’s of the British political elite. Like millions of others I had been seduced into thinking that the ‘grilling’ of Rupert and his mini-me son was an event of such magnitude that I would have to stream it via my work’s PC in order to keep abreast of the shenanigans taking place in the House of Commons. I tuned in just as Sir Paul Stephenson was finishing his evidence. The former Met commissioner seemed a decent enough chap and realised that his force’s dismal repsonse to the original News of The World hacking scandal ultimately lead to his door and he had therefore resigned. The fercocious MPs on the select committee, selected presumably for their tenacity and forensic abilities, patted Sir Paul on the head and wished him luck in his new home. Good doggy! They then turned their attention to John Yates, a man far more culpable in this story of bribery, nepotism, backhanders and murder (let’s not forget the Milly Dowler case that turned this whole case) and aimed a few gentle kicks in his direction but basically allowed the assistant commissioner to piss on the carpet and run away.
Then it was onto the real show; Rupert and James Murdoch who staged a bizarre double act routine; Daddy M cracking on to be a befuddled, octogenarian alzeimer’s case and his son attempting to bore the watching millions senseless with meaningless corporate speak. Even the custard pie incident was an anti-climax, notable only for the uselessness of the attacker and the lightning fast reactions of Murdoch’s Mail Order bride, Wendi who lamped the attacker with a slap David Haye could only dream of landing. She instantly became the media’s darling even though she is, in essence, little more than the concubine of a dirty but extremely rich old man. I actually missed the foam/custard incident because after 20 minutes or so of Rupert’s ‘me no understand’ subterfuge and James’ ‘ah weren’t there’ evasions, it seemed pointless to watch the likes of genteel Tom Watson and the imperious Keith Vaz performing their Monty Python Spanish Inquisition routine;
“Tom, poke them with soft cushions!”
“Keith, get the comfy chair!”
And so, after all the hoo-ha what have we learned from the whole fiasco? Er, the British elite has been exposed as an incestuous and corrupt cartel that engages in criminal acts and attempts to cover these up by using the police and politicians to deflect attention away from their crimes. Y’don’t say! We knew that already. Remember the 96?