You have to larf

As Oscar Wilde famously said at the death of  Dickens’s heroine Little Dorritt,”You have to have a heart of stone not to laugh.”

So it is with the modern day Joans of Arc,the Amazons of social justice who are now bleating in front  various Justices with the help of me learned friends assorted. This group of ten women  are all  paid up members of making the world a better and more moral place . Educated at Greenpeace,Greenham Common and the Green Man of Grantham.

Together they are complaining about the  “gravest interference of fundamental rights.” That is they slept with,fell in love and sometimes had babies with police spies. We must remember why a bunch of  saintly wackos who believe in animal rights were given the ultimate honour of  having police spies in their midst.

In the 1980s and 90s animal right activists disrupted businesses,set fire to shops, released farm and laboratory animals into the wild, closed down laboratories which were trying to find cures for cancer, Parkinsons etc, made honest scientists lives hell by picketing their houses, slashing their tyres and writing to various media that the scientists were peadophiles etc. Honest businesses had to close  people lost their jobs,research was undone and the rest. It had to stop.

It has, not least because of the successful use of police spies. So how  does it go. Well one of these modern day Boediceas who is often quoted in the Guardian, and  who ironically remains anonymous, claims she met the police spy in the 1980s. He was “polite, considerate,very romantic,attentive,charismatic”  and here is the real Guardianista kicker “non judgemental”. Who wouldn’t want to drop their knickers off for such a man. Off they came.

It went deep and deeper. They were in love,they were having great sex,they were  living for a higher moral purpose. But as well as being a considerate lover he did his day job.He got a few of the ringleaders arrested and then claimed the Special Branch were after him and would have to flee the country.

But before then,  our girl on the barricades had taken her beau to see her parents. This was going beyond a  weekend  fling at Greenham Common. This was real. This was forever.  Not once but three times was he taken home. But when she closed and asked for a real commitment,a head was shaken. It was not to be. A woman scorned.

Twenty years later the lady who how wants a full legal hearing cries”I was cruelly tricked  and it has  made me really angry, I feel violated.” Others are claiming ” misfeance of public office, deceit, assault and negligence.”

I don’t know what the first thing means (John Prescott/Cecil Parkinson and their secretaries ?)but I’m afraid the other other crimes against fundamental rights are committed by lads and in these liberated times, sometimes lassies every Saturday night every week of the year.

Who in order to get their sexual way has not lied (deceit), turned a no into a yes(assault) and not phoned when they said they would(negligence). But if these Joans of Arc have got a bit of self righteousness in their step, which maybe understandable,its their lawyers who go for real glory. One moans,”we want to see the end of sexual and psychological abuse of campaigners  for social justice.” Another whines into his legally aided brief,”my client has suffered the gravest interference of her rights.”

But my black heart goes out to those public dicks who had to get it out for their country. As we know policemen  only get their truncheons out when they are excited.These dungaree clad, unshaven ,bra less  ,hamster suckling horizontal collaborationists got lucky and experienced the full thrust of the law as administered by London’s finest. How lucky were they?

But no thanks, they complain on one web site,”We challenge the State’s use of womyn’s(sic) bodies. All animals are equal regardless of gender or species.” Except if they are non judgemental pigs.

But it wasn’t only the boys in blue who were tip toeing around the left wing dorms. The Met also  unleashed its Jezebels in  Blue. However one activist who answered the Siren’s call told the Guardian he was not going to sue as his “one night stand was nothing meaningful”. No gent he. At night, among the cold coffee cups and the half eaten burgers, the sobs in the Special Branch canteen can still be heard.

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