Liddle by Liddle

‘Hello, my name is Rod Liddle, and I’m a cunt’.

This is the only possible and acceptable response to his recent musings in ‘Our National Newspaper’, The Sun. Yet quite ironically, Liddle fails to provide his reader with the healthy afterglow of 3 minutes on a sun bed. In fact, he comes across like an ignorant, uninformed scum-bag.

Liddle opens his article with: “My New Year’s resolution for 2012 was to become disabled”. Firstly, one may hope that Liddle’s use of the past participle, “was”, would suggest he had succeeded. This lies the grounds for a double celebration: not only has he succeeded in attaining his ‘resolution’ (a notable and admirable success for anyone); but he has also managed to become disabled, a worthy comeuppance, which will hopefully ensure he can no longer write such shit-filled sentiments.

He continues: “Nothing too serious, maybe just a bit of a bad back or one of those newly invented illnesses which make you a bit peaky for decades – fibromyalgia or M.E.” What a delightful chap. This article, written in light of the possible ConDem changes to our benefit system, appears to ridicule those with disabilities. Yet such derision of actual illnesses (such as M.E.) may make you recoil into your wheelchair, or however else you free-wheelers apparently live. (Liddle’s probable words, not mine.)

Our only hope is that Mr Rod Liddle does in fact contract a serious illness. Or greater still one may wish that come 2013 he is unavailable to inform his adoring public of his New Year’s resolutions.

Ok! Maybe that seems too much; I mean, am I not just doing the same as Liddle. Being cruel and ignorant.  Surely I wouldn’t want to fall to his level. No, you’re quite right. I think a mild case of genital warts would do (however, unlikely it is that anyone would find such a cretin sexually attractive). Or perhaps, he could catch his finger in a door. A mild case of that laughable “modern” disease, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, should surely do the trick? Or he could just fall off a cliff, ensuring said “bad back”; only a small cliff, mind. I’m not an animal.

It’s a shame really. With over two million unemployed in this country, it may seem unbelievable that such people are paid for their thoughts. Surely it would be of greater profit to employ lots of monkeys, and give them lots of typewriters (on a ratio of 1:1 for best results). Because of course, eventually, one of them will write the Complete Works of Rod Liddle. Or rather, an equally nonfactual, offensive pile of ignorance.