Won’t somebody think?

Zoe Williams has beaten me to it as usual, of course, but I was listening to Claire Curtis-Thomas MP on the radio yesterday and wondering how an argument so devoid of evidence, so unaware of current culture, ethics and morals, and so wholly hypocritical—presented as it was by a pragmatic, warmongering lickspittle—could receive any kind of airing in national media, let alone be discussed in parliament by anyone other than the likes of Worst-horne.

Personally I find the antics of Zoo and the like more boring than anything else, closely followed by the usual feminist labels: pathetic, childish, ridiculous, demeaning to the reader, your own phrase here for only £1.40 per word. But it upsets me that the morally retarded, the ulterior-motivated, or just the plain attention-grabbing lemon-suckers, simply have to mention “the children” and suddenly their opinion is like gold bricks. Wife-beating takes a back seat to child abuse. The hundreds of missing people in the country, four of whom are advertised each Big Issue, pale into significance next to some cute blond überchild who escaped from the soft, womblike enclosure of his mother’s SUV. If lads’ mags are pathetic, what does this fawning behaviour make the rest of our media? Whatever happened to the Brass Eye revolution?

In retrospect, I feel relieved that neither of the charities we requested wedding donations to were children’s charities. I consider it, in fact, a matter of personal pride and indication of my superior taste, and I hope the smugness I now feel will keep me warm well into my dotage. Also, Pudsey Bear can ram it.

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