The stinking disgrace that is The Biased Broadcasting Corporation: may their problems be terminal.
14/01/2013

Here’s how Oliver Cromwell, one of  England’s great heroes, would have described them:  To the rump BBC:

It is high time for me to put an end to your sitting in this place,
which you have dishonored by your contempt of all virtue, and defiled
by your practice of every vice; ye are a factious crew, and enemies to
all good government; ye are a pack of mercenary wretches, and would
like Esau sell your country for a mess of pottage, and like Judas
betray your God for a few pieces of money.

Is there a single virtue now remaining amongst you?

Is there one vice you do not possess? Ye have no more religion than my
horse; gold is your God; which of you have not barter'd your
conscience for bribes?

Is there a man amongst you that has the least care for the good of the
Commonwealth?

Ye sordid prostitutes have you not defil'd this sacred place, and
turn'd the Lord's temple into a den of thieves, by your immoral
principles and wicked practices? Ye are grown intolerably odious to
the whole nation; you were deputed here by the people to get
grievances redress'd, are yourselves gone!

So! Take away that shining bauble there, and lock up the doors. In the
name of God, go!



H/T to Peter Mullen whose blog doth follow:

Blog 138

It was just like the day Princess Diana died. Everything stopped. It
seemed almost that the world itself had stopped spinning. This was
appropriate perhaps for the Queen of Hearts - but surely not for the
BBC, the Queen of Tarts? Every news item stuffed full of the hapless
Entwistle and the unctuous Patten. An extended edition of The World at
One. And so on. Drip, drip drip of penitential oil, hand-wringing and
will these wavebands ne'er be clean?

Can we use this tragi-comedy to get rid of the BBC please? Or, if not,
at least to force the Corporation to raise its own income instead of
picking our pockets every year for the utterly unjustified tax
euphemistically described as the licence fee. And please spare us more
propaganda about the licence as the BBC's guarantee of freedom from
having to compete in the dumbed down, dirty world of commercial
programming.

Have you looked at Auntie's schedules recently? Makeover shows, freak
shows, cookery shows, Strictly Rubbish, The Lottery, the oleaginous
simpering of witless professional narcissists such as Stephen Fry and
the lisping innuendo of Jonathan Ross. And have you seen what these
fellows cost?

Ah, but don't forget "the highest standards of investigative
journalism from the finest public service broadcaster in the world,.
as I heard from one parroting BBC apparatchik yesterday morning Lord
McAlpine and the victims of Jimmy Savile have suffered enough of this
stuff to last them a lifetime. Then there's that other vaunted
guarantee: that of true editorial independence and freedom from bias.

What a joke! The BBC has a social and political agenda immoveable as
the laws of the Persians and Medes. Look no further than the recent US
election when its journalists and presenters cheered relentlessly for
Obama. Or the arrogance with which the Corporation doesn't even bother
to deny - because realistically it can't - its tireless promotion of
the superstitious fad of global warming.

The BBC was accused of bias against Israel which it denied, setting up its own internal enquiry
into the matter. When the result of the enquiry became available, the
BBC refused to publish it and even went to the lengths of incurring
hundreds of thousands of pounds in legal costs to have the proof of
its anti-Israel policy hushed up.

The BBC displays incompetence, partisanship and self-satisfaction in
equal measure. Perhaps there was a time when it deserved our respect
and even our affection, but that time is long past.

These days it is a decadent institution failing in all the ways in which it is possible
to fail. Let us take the opportunity presented by the latest scandals
and address the Corporation in the words Oliver Cromwell used when he
dismissed the Rump Parliament:

"You have sat here too long for any good you have been doing lately.
Depart, I say and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!.




 
 
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