Billy Bunter and Simple Simon in their current guises as backbench nonentities desperate to make their mediocre mark can barely contain their excitement, queuing-up to get their ugly mugs on news bulletins by the broadcaster that compares a bullish Friend of David to the mostÂ successful charity fundraiser in living memory. Why? Because Scotland Yard is again playing the guilty pupil standing in front of the whole school, reluctantly owning up to past indiscretions in anticipation of six-of-the-best. Not that anyone outside of the Westminster conspiracy factory is remotely surprised or shocked by this confession; the Met, like its South Yorkshire branch, spends approximately half of its working life apologising for something it did or didnât do years ago. Itâs like discovering an MP has been caught cooking the books or has his hand in the till â is there anyone left in this country who could find such news revelatory anymore? So, the Conservative Party Chairman had a second job when he declared he didnât? Tell us something we donât know. Itâd be more of a shock to learn he hadnât lied after all.
This latest âIâve been a naughty boyâ missive from Scotland Yard relates to turning a blind eye to and (on the odd occasion) apparently endorsing the sexual abuse of children over a period naturally beginning in the year that opened the decade in which our kiddies were enticed through the gates of hell en masse, 1970. There has been a cover-up by all accounts, one inevitably involving a deceased Honourable Member (though from which party, I wonder?). Oh, joy of joys! Nothing excites quite like a cover-up. Blame it all on JFK, or more accurately, those who fudged the issue of who blew his head off in 1963. Conflicting accounts and a collective refusal to accept the uncomfortable truth that one screwed-up individual could rob the free world of its charismatic leader helped found an industry that has flourished in the half-century since explosive events on Deely Plaza.
âThe public may be shocked by what could emergeâ, claimed a Survivorsâ Spokesman following the announcement by the Met yesterday. âIt will make the Profumo Affair look like a picnic in the park.â Ah, yes â Profumo, the pioneering scandal that had it all: MPs and Peers, pimps with friends in high places, common whores, Russian spies, the revelation that the social betters of the plebs were sexual deviants; oh, and it brought down an ailing Prime Minister who went on to live for another twenty-odd years! The Great British benchmark indeed â and one that occurred the same year as the Kennedy assassination; it seems Philip Larkin was right to call 1963 Annus Mirabilis.
In one respect, where finding out politicians could lie through their teeth whilst feathering their own nest was once shocking to the public, it is now second nature to mistrust them, with instant recourse to suspicion and doubt even when the suspect is innocent. After JFK, MLK, Bobby Kennedy and Vietnam, for example, Watergate was the final straw for most Americans, a scandal so seismic in its impact that virtually every scandal great and small since has had the âgateâ suffix attached to it. But as Nixon fell on his sword, he had inadvertently sown the seeds of something that would only require advancements in technology to take it to the next level.
The invention of the internet for the conspiracy theorist was like the invention of the strap-on dildo for lesbians with a closet penis fetish. In the last ten years, the world-wide web has facilitated such an astronomical increase in the conspiracy industry that the belief everything weâve been told by the evil powers-that-be has been a carefully orchestrated lie concocted to conceal the truth is more widespread than ever before. And one can be sure that if the truth is out there, itâs more terrible than anyone could possibly conceive in their most fevered imagination. In short, itâs even better.
âWeâre on the cusp of finding out what went on in the 70s and 80sâ said Simple Simon yesterday as Mrs Simon was no doubt coping with ripping her family apart by taking another scented mammary selfie to flog for a tenner. The man who had been present during the unveiling of a plaque praising Cyril Smith without once voicing the rumours that had encircled the beached whale of Rochdale for decades has hitched a ride on the conspiracy industryâs latest battle bus and is clearly enjoying the attention. The IPCC is now in receipt of fourteen cases of corruption passed onto them by the Met, something that is Manna from Heaven to the likes of Simple Simon in that this is no ordinary case of police corruption of the kind that sent the likes of the Yard’s Commander Wally Virgo to prison in the 70s. Old-school villains such as Soho porn barons donât even get a look in. Like ex-Richardson Gang henchmen, theyâre loveable rogues now; they even make movies about them that celebrate their roguishness.
No, this IPCC investigation adheres to a very modern agenda and contains all the requisite modern ingredients for a scandal soufflÃ© â crooked coppers covering-up the truth by hindering and halting investigations to save the skins of senior politicians and prevent the prosecution of paedophile rings involving MPs and Peers (not that lot again!), celebrities and sinister Masonic sex pests. And itâs âhistoricâ as well â âhigh level corruption of the most serious natureâ. One former policemanÂ claims he was removed from his post when he announced his intention to investigate the cases that have now been handed to the police watchdog. What more could the conspiracy industry wish for?
Salivating survivors and one-trick pony politicians want this inquiry; but more than that, they want their accusations to be vindicated, and the only way that can happen is for concrete evidence to emerge that will prove children were sexually abused. If the conclusion of the inquiry finds there are no grounds for any of the accusations, the interested parties will not be happy. Liz âQuack-Quack-Oopsâ Dux and Mark âPaedo-finderâ Williams-Thomas will be airing their outrage on Twitter within seconds of the verdict; their slavish online disciples will be demanding an inquiry into the inquiry; the comfy sofas of daytime TV will be drenched in the collective tears of victims; tabloids will cry âwhitewashâ while the broadsheets pick out the splinters from their backsides; whoever is heading the minority government when the inquiry ends will join the chorus in the hope that it wins him favour with the electorate. Everyone with half-a-brain can be Mystic Meg these days.
The fact is all those with a vested interest in the outcome of this investigation want children to have been sexually abused â whether politician, law-firm, survivor, failed policeman-turned-moral crusader, and online conspiracy theorist; itâs the only outcome acceptable to them, whether truth or lie. Of course, the truth as the inquiry finds it will indeed be declared a lie if it doesnât match their expectations. And if they get their wish, thereâll still be yet another scandal waiting in the wings that involves children, even if those children passed puberty forty years ago. How awful it would be to discover no innocents were seduced and sodomised. What would that do for the credibility of the crusaders?
So hereâs to a guilty verdict; hereâs to raiding the retirement homes; hereâs to trial and sentencing; hereâs to righting wrongs and rewriting history; hereâs to lawsuits and hereâs to the confirmation that everyone in a position of power is covering-up the kind of depravity that excites and energises the vampires that have drained this country of its dignity. Good night, all.