Have you ever had an argument with one of the Peepul on Twitter? Honestly, if you haven’t you should try it. It doesn’t matter what the subject matter is; try it for a wee while and you can sense what’s going to happen way before it actually does.
There is a moment in Stephen King’s The Stand which I always think of when I am arguing with them; in the book a character is thinking about magnetism. I won’t tell you the context in case you’ve never had the pleasure of reading it and want to one day.
But he compares the emotions he can feel raging inside him to something he once saw in a science show.
A scientist stands at one side of a table holding a giant magnet.
On the other side of the table is a metal slug.
The scientist slowly moves the magnet towards the slug, in little increments.
And if you watch closely something fascinating starts to happen; the slug begins to vibrate. It’s almost imperceptible at first, but it gets more and more obvious the closer the magnet gets. After a while it may even begin to move in little juddering tremors.
Finally, the laws of physics kick in for real; the see-saw tips all the way, and the slug flies across the table, to stick to the magnet.
Why does debating the Ibrox fan-base on Twitter make me feel that way?
Well, because nearly all of them are only ever an inch or two from launching into the bile. It takes one of two forms; the abuse thing or the fenian thing, although a lot of them, to be fair, can’t choose between them and go for both.
And sometimes, as the debate rages, you can almost sense it’s going to happen; it’s as if the pull of the magnet grows in them the longer the discussion goes on. They are being drawn to it, and eventually their control snaps and out comes the hatred.
Kris Boyd is a little like that, although he is on the telly and so knows he can’t get away with anything quite so extreme.
But when he talks about Celtic you see on his face that the struggle is going on inside him, that even when he’s giving us praise he has to get a dig in or something within him might explode. Today was no exception. It was obvious that he would break.
Like McCoist did, during the week with Kyogo, he couldn’t help himself. The struggle was evident on his coupon, and finally he just lost the will to hold it at bay and he made some ridiculous dig about Jota scoring a lot of offside goals.
You don’t ask much from these people. You can’t. It would be a waste of your time.
Boyd is an idiot; that’s all Boyd is ever going to be. Temper your expectations of hearing some blinding insight, or getting some bit of knowledge, however arcane, which proves that there is more going in that head of his than a windup toy monkey banging cymbals together.
Beyond that, all you can ask for is that he covers us like he would cover any other team except for the one at Ibrox which he doesn’t even make the slightest effort to cover without bias oozing out of ever pore. At least today he tried; I’ll give him that.
But the emphatic nature of the win, and the brilliance of the two front men, and the sure and steady knowledge that something big is happening at Celtic started to work its way through his system like a dose of the runs until he could no longer hold it in.
He opened his crack and it burst forth.
In moments like this it’s almost worth seeing his nasty little face on the telly.
But what a vile bigoted little man he is.