Way back after the Queen died, I wrote a piece about how the gutter rags of the right were targeting our club.
I thought then, and now, that if our fans are pissing that lot off then we’re definitely doing something right. Because these people are, to put not too fine a point on it, the dregs of humanity and I don’t feel any inclination to be nice about them.
These are the people who spend every minute of every day on the attack, and their targets are often the poorest and most vulnerable people in our society. They are scumbags, cowardly scumbags, and I am delighted to be on the opposite side of any debate they happen to be involved in.
Their poster boy across the water remains mired in scandal and wallows in the gutter.
He was recently found liable for a sexual assault. He has threatened to pardon the Insurrection rioters. He refuses to commit to backing Ukraine. He won’t say whether or not he would respect the result of the next election and he still claims that the last one was nicked from him. He and his followers want to bend reality into whatever shape suits them.
Over here, they have their own “media outlets” now, and I would laugh at the spectacle of mainstream publications calling them out on their brazen lies if it wasn’t so sickening to see that sort of hypocrisy. Because the mainstream is filled with people just as bad, and one of them had a go at us just the other day over the coronation.
Piers Morgan isn’t really a journalist, of course, and he hasn’t been for years.
He’s morphed from being one, albeit a shit one, into a despicable, right-wing vampire, preying on the weak. He hates us. He freely admits it. Because we won’t sing for the King and bow and kiss the ring.
Well boo-hoo. I do love it when these people try to lecture us on character.
The right has nothing to teach us on character.
Or common decency. Or respect for others.
If they gave a damn about those things, I might not despise them as much as I do. He’s a regular on GB News, which allowed a conspiracy theorist nut-job to go on the other day and make all sorts of wild and lurid claims about the vaccines and the lockdown.
They prey on ignorance as much as weakness, and the day they get to give us lectures is the day Hell freezes over and the snow buries their vacation cottages there.
The other day I wrote about Souness and how he has been booted off Sky for being a blinkered old misogynist. The man who described Celtic fans as “the unacceptable face of Scottish football” has been revealed for what he is himself, and his bosses are terminating him for that reason. Imagine my delight to see Morgan floundering in a cesspit of his own.
He has had to repeatedly deny that he was aware of phone hacking going on whilst editor of The Daily Mirror. But few believe that, and if he was being judged on the basis of his character nobody at all would believe it.
He has made a living for years demonising people and whipping up hate against them. Paying fellow scumbags to tap phones seems like a lesser offence next to some of the things we already know for a fact he’s responsible for.
This is what he said this week about the subject, in an interview with the BBC.
“Originally I said I had never hacked a phone, never told anyone to hack a phone, and no stories have been published in the Mirror in my time from the hacking of a phone. Then someone pointed out that you can only know the first two things for sure. All I can talk to is what I know: I never hacked a phone; I wouldn’t know how … I can be certain about what I knew and what I did. No one has ever produced anything to contradict what I’m saying.”
Apart from the obvious dissembling in there, one person has actually “produced” plenty which contradicts that statement; yes, you’ve guessed it. He did it himself.
In 2006, he told The Daily Mail of how he listened as someone played him a voice recording taken from Paul McCartney’s mobile.
“At one stage I was played a tape of a message Paul had left for Heather on her mobile phone. It was heart-breaking. The couple had clearly had a tiff, Heather had fled to India, and Paul was pleading with her to come back. He sounded lonely, miserable and desperate, and even sang We Can Work It Out into the answerphone.”
It’s nauseating, isn’t it? This man who would dare lecture us.
In 2007, he told GQ Magazine that, “t was pretty well known that if you didn’t change your pin code when you were a celebrity who bought a new phone, then reporters could ring your mobile, tap in a standard factory setting number and hear your messages.”
And then, in a Trumpian effort to make that sound somehow respectable, he actually said,” That is not, to me, as serious as planting a bug in someone’s house, which is what some people seem to think was going on.”
You notice that he appears not to consider whether there’s actually a moral difference?
And why should he? He doesn’t care about any of that stuff.
In 2009 he gave an even more damning statement on Desert Island Discs.
“A lot of it was done by third parties rather than the staff themselves. That’s not to defend it, because obviously you were running the results of their work. I’m quite happy to be parked in the corner of tabloid beast and to have to sit here defending all these things I used to get up to, and I make no pretence about the stuff we used to do.”
I. Make. No. Pretence. About. The. Stuff. We. Used. To Do.
So much for denial.
So much for “nobody ever produced anything to contradict what I’m saying.”
These, and others like him, are our enemies. Vile specimens engaged in all manner of despicable behaviour, wallowing in hatred.
We should wear that label like a badge of honour.