It’s shocking how many Michael Jackson fans are still determined to take his side

Plus: Ricky Gervais’s After Life is a wasted opportunity

Michael Jackson and Wade Robson. Photo: Pro Co

Halfway through the first part of Channel 4’s extraordinary documentary Leaving Neverland (Thursdays), I flicked through the comments on social media in order to gauge the global reaction. Surely, I thought, Michael Jackson’s reputation will never recover from these bombshell revelations. 

If you sat, squirming, though Dan Reed’s excruciatingly prurient documentary you’ll know what I mean. Lots of those who didn’t have been justifying their decision to ignore it with excuses like ‘Yeah, but we knew this already. Michael Jackson was a paedo. It’s hardly news, is it?’ But this strikes me as glib and dishonest.

Read the rest in the Spectator.

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Welcome to Britain 2018, Where Jokes Are Now Illegal

CountDankula
YouTube

Welcome to Britain 2018, where jokes are now illegal.

I’m referring, of course, to the case of the blogger Markus Meechan – Count Dankula – who has now been convicted by the Scottish courts of the “odious criminal act” of teaching his pug dog to do a Hitler salute. He is facing a possible prison sentence.

This is appalling. What’s almost more appalling, though, are the people I’ve heard – even clever, savvy people on my side of the argument – who don’t seem to get why it’s so appalling.

Since when did we get to the stage where free speech needs defending? Where jokes – in however poor taste – suddenly become justification for a prison sentence?

Let me spell it out.

All that matters is this: in 2018 – the age of Islamic State terror; underage girls groomed and raped by mostly Muslim gangs; Antifa thuggery; epic financial fraud; acid attacks; an epidemic of knife violence; and flagrant assassination attempts by foreign powers – the British justice system (of which Scotland’s is regrettably a part) now considers it a priority to employ valuable police, courts, and jail time punishing cheeky young men for winding up their girlfriends.

That’s how it started, remember. Meechan, a straight speaking, shambolically entertaining, libertarian-leaning social media shit-poster decided to wind up his more PC girlfriend by teaching her pug dog how to give a Hitler salute. Then he posted the video on the Internet, where, of course, it went viral.

Sure it was tasteless. But then, so was Mel Brook’s “Springtime for Hitler” routine in The Producers. (Made in 1967, by the way, when there were many, MANY more Holocaust survivors still alive to be offended.) So was the stunt pulled by The Who’s Keith Moon and the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band’s Viv Stanshall when they went out drinking in London’s Chelsea dressed as Nazis. So was John Cleese doing his Nazi goosestep in the “Don’t Mention the War” episode of Fawlty Towers

Read the rest on Breitbart.

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Theresa May’s New Cabinet: Brexit Is on!

As an ardent Brexiteer, certainly, I feel a lot more optimistic about the future than I did two days when I penned this gloomy piece for the Spectator. (Gosh, I sounded so angry and bitter I could almost have been a Remainiac…)

Yes, of course, Amber Rudd is going to make a ghastly Home Secretary. Heaven knows, she was already promoted far beyond her talents as head of the Department of Energy and Climate Change. Plus, she actually believes all the greenie crap. Plus, she came across quite appallingly during the EU Referendum campaign: strident, vindictive, easily bought, self-serving and a bit thick.

But the thing you need to remember about the position of Home Secretary is that it’s a poisoned chalice. So much can go wrong for you – and almost certainly will for her. So it won’t be too long before Rudd’s fox is shot, I’m guessing.

On the bright side, meanwhile, we’ve got a healthy quota of Brexiteers in the positions that could really make a difference:

David Davis: Secretary for exiting the European Union. Sound!

Liam Fox: International Trade. Sound!

Boris Johnson. Foreign Secretary. Well whether he’s sound or not is anyone’s guess – I personally believe he’ll be great – but if nothing else you’ve got to admit, his appointment is truly a piece of top trolling by Britain’s new Prime Minister, suggesting that she might even have a hidden sense of humour.

Already, I’m enjoying greatly the wailing and gnashing of teeth it has caused among the wankerati…

Read the rest at Breitbart.

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Prince William Defends Trophy Hunting. Brave Call

Chris Jackson/Getty Images

Prince William has bravely come out in defence of trophy hunting.

‘There is a place for commercial hunting in Africa as there is round the world,’ although he conceded: ‘It’s not everyone’s cup of tea.’

For this the heir to the British throne has inevitably been pilloried by the usual suspects.

The UK-based charity Lion Aid was among those leading the criticism, describing William’s comments as a “sad day”.

It added in a statement: “With likely less than 15,000 wild lions left in Africa, there is no place for commercial hunting of lions. With an estimated 1,500 wild male lions in existence and with current ‘offtake’ for trophy hunting of 300 per annum, continued trophy hunting cannot be deemed as sustainable.

But it’s the Prince who is talking sense on this occasion, not this two-bit animal charity. William has been getting an awful lot of stick, of late, in the UK media which has accused him of ducking his royal duties and being lazy. Under the circumstances, it would have been quite understandable if he’d taken the easy, populist line, rode the wave of post-Cecil-the-Lion hysteria and pretended to be frightfully upset by the idea of any big game being shot for pleasure ever again in Africa.

He didn’t take the coward’s way out, though. Instead William spoke the truth.

Trophy hunting brings millions of dollars a year into Africa’s wildlife conservation budget. Anyone who truly cares about wildlife should applaud it, not condemn it.

The only reason we don’t hear this more often is because of the vast and lucrative animal sentimentality industry. Aided and abetted by the bloviating of celebrities like Ricky Gervais, this industry makes millions of dollars every year by persuading rich, stupid people such as – I’m guessing, but fairly educatedly – the Kardashians to fork out gazillions for this endangered tiger or that threatened lion, bringing them the warm gooey feeling you always get when you think you’ve saved a cute, furry feline from being wiped off the planet. This industry does not deal in nuance (like, say, OK: how do we save all these animals given that natives who have to live alongside them consider them a dangerous pest?), only in raw emotion. You cross these animal-rights lunatics at your peril.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

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‘Cecil Effect’ Leads to African Lion Cull: I Blame Ricky Gervais

Under normal circumstances, the rights to shoot those lions would have been sold to big game hunters – bringing many hundreds of thousands of dollars into the local economy, providing livelihoods for people and boosting the wildlife conservation budget.

Instead, most likely, those lions will now have to be destroyed to no purpose. I blame Ricky Gervais.

Not just Ricky Gervais, obviously. After the world-infamous death of Cecil the Lion there was certainly no shortage of bloviating bleeding hearts announcing to anyone who would listen just how outraged they were that a beast they’d never heard of till two seconds ago had been shot for sport by a Minnesota dentist.

It’s just that Gervais, with his several million Twitter followers and his shark-toothed Hollywood presence and his (still-not-quite-totally-decayed) cultish comedy credibility, was probably the most influential of the bunch.

Well, welcome to the world of unintended consequences, Funny Little Fat Man, chubby little loser with the pug nose face. You, Gervais, must now bear partial responsibility for the senseless slaughter of 200 of those big cats you claim to care about so much.

You could, I suppose, argue that unlike those 200 common-or-garden lions Cecil was special because he had a name and was – apparently – beloved by visitors to Hwange national park because of his distinctive black mane and friendly disposition.

But I would counter that 200 nameless lions killed to no purpose is a far greater crime against nature than a single lion called Cecil dying an honourable, lucrative and productive death as a game trophy.

I also think that the kind of childish anthropomorphisation with which Gervais and his fellow celebrity bunny huggers indulge themselves takes us down a very dangerous path, as I tried to argue at the peak of the Cecil hysteria.

Let me stress at this point that I’m by no means averse to the charm of lions.

One of the earliest films I remember going to see at the cinema was Born Free. I think Simba in The Lion King is a really great kid. I have seen more lions on more safaris than anyone I know who doesn’t actually live in Africa and if ever I had to enter into a Lion Off with Ricky Gervais I would win hands down.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

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If Ricky Gervais Really Cared about Giraffes He’d Hunt Them

Comedian Ricky Gervais has decided that because we liked The Office, quite enjoyed a couple of sketches in Extras (the David Bowie one and the Lenny Henry one) and weren’t all driven to suicide by Night At The Museum, we should therefore care what he thinks about giraffe rights.

Gervais takes them so seriously that when he found a photograph of “extreme huntress” Rebecca Francis posing next to the body of a giraffe she had shot, he just couldn’t resist exposing her to the righteous wrath of his 7.5 million Twitter follows, earning the poor woman a string of death threats.

What Gervais clearly doesn’t appreciate – why should he?: his job is making people laugh and hanging out with smug Hollywood liberals, not reading or thinking – is that any intelligent person who really cares about Africa’s wildlife ought to be backing people like Rebecca Francis to the hilt.

If it weren’t for Africa’s game industry there’d be virtually no game left in Africa to photograph, let alone hunt.

That’s because it’s the hunters who significantly bankroll the conservation, breeding and protection programmes that keep the animals from being poached to extinction.

In the game reserves of Africa they well understand this.

Here, for example, is Alexander N Songworna, director of wildlife for the Tanzanian Ministry of Natural Resources and Tourism, pleading with the New York Times’s readership not to meddle with his country’s game industry.

In Tanzania, lions are hunted under a 21-day safari package. Hunters pay $9,800 in government fees for the opportunity. An average of about 200 lions are shot a year, generating about $1,960,000 in revenue. Money is also spent on camp fees, wages, local goods and transportation. And hunters almost always come to hunt more than one species, though the lion is often the most coveted trophy sought. All told, trophy hunting generated roughly $75 million for Tanzania’s economy from 2008 to 2011.

The same is true in Namibia, where permits to shoot black rhino raise $350,000 each – money which goes towards ensuring that there will still be black rhinos for future generations of Gervaises to gawp at and weep tears over.

If Gervais really cared about Africa’s wildlife, he’d put his money where his mouth is – as this fine upstanding hunter from Texas did recently, man up and go and bag himself a rhino. (Or, if he’s too chicken, a giraffe).

I know it’s not necessarily obvious, this paradox that in order to preserve animals it sometimes make sense to kill them. It’s a head thing, not a heart thing, unfortunately, which is why so many people of a liberal persuasion are so doomed never to get it.

Read the rest at Breitbart London

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  3. I’d rather my kids were killing real game than playing Call of Duty on an Xbox
  4. Richard Madeley reveals that the green blight has finally sunk Cornwall

 

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