Fuck the Daily Mail!

27 Mar

I’ve got the urge to write but I don’t have anything to say, I mean, I have shit to say, but nothing that would be interesting to anyone who doesn’t live inside my head. But I have got the urge to write. I just read this story about Alan Partridge having a go at the Daily Mail, comparing it to paedophilia, and I thought ‘Yes, Partridge!’ for no other reason than I hate the Daily Mail with a passion. One of the reasons I hate them is because their existence means that I have to walk around with the burden of hate in me, if that makes sense. Here I am at a point in my life where I am trying as best I can to harbour no resentment, anger, envy or hatred to any individual on the planet, and yet I can’t shift this overpowering loathing I carry about with me for the Mail. And it’s not that I hate the Mail because it’s cool to hate the Mail. In fact I find that idea ridiculous. I don’t believe there’s anybody who hates the Mail because it’s cool to hate the Mail, that’s just some silly remark the Mail’s supporters will throw out there.  People hate the Mail just because they hate the Mail. It is as simple as that. It is in our human DNA to hate the Mail, just like it is in our human DNA to hate rats. And I don’t even hate rats. But I am shit scared of them. All rodents. I don’t even like being in my sister’s place when the hamster’s running around the room in his ball. Every time I see a hamster running in one of them balls I remember the Crystal Maze. Remember when the surviving contestants would have to go into that big hamster ball at the end and collect the golden tickets? When I say ‘surviving contestants’ I don’t mean the ones that hadn’t died during the earlier segments of the show. I’ve completely lost my trail of thought here. Writing shit again that is only interesting to anyone that lives inside my head. Which is just me. And whoever the other four voices belong to. One of them is German. And shouts instructions to me at night. But until now I have never acted on them. Not because I know better, but because I don’t speak German, so can’t understand what the person in my head is telling me to do.

That last bit is not true. I just made it up. Entertaining myself. I’m writing, at least. He’s actually Swiss.

 

I exaggerated how much of a burden my hatred for the Mail is. It isn’t something that has any detrimental effect on my life. I don’t go to bed at night thinking about the Mail. Well, until now anyway. And although I am lying on my bed in my lucky boxers writing this, it doesn’t really count as going to bed thinking about them. Until I’m under the covers I’m not in bed, right? Anyway, yea, I do hate the Mail, but at least now I get to hate them from afar. I’m out of the country, so away from their physical sphere of circulation, and I don’t read any of their online content. They don’t reach me, don’t impact me. But that doesn’t lessen the level of detestation any. After all, it’s in our human DNA to hate the Mail, isn’t it?

For a few seconds just now I thought that I shouldn’t even be giving the Mail and its readers the satisfaction of seeing me dedicate to them the time and energy it takes to write a piece, cos I know they love nothing more than getting a reaction out of the good people who despise them, but then I remembered that no one reads me, so anything I write will go completely under the radar. If you are reading this you are in the company of very few. You are a Billy No Mates. What am I talking about ‘if  you are reading this’, what a stupid way of wording things. There’s no if about it, is there? You are reading this. Obviously. Otherwise you wouldn’t be, and then these words that I am communicating wouldn’t be aimed at you. The person who is not reading this is not my target audience. It is not necessary for me to address that person.

After I’d finished reading about what Alan Partidge had to say, I know his name’s not really Alan Partdige by the way, I came up with a good idea to get me spending this night, or at least a part of it, writing. When I say a good idea, I do accept that that is a matter of opinion, so I am not going to claim it to be fact. Basically I’m going to go and have a little nose around the Mail’s website, and just write whatever I write. But first I’m going to roll another spliff. Then I shall begin. This is one of them posts that could turn out to be an epic fail in terms of entertainment. I fear that it already has. Oh well, what can you do?

Man, how annoying is it when there’s nothing interesting to eat in the home?

That last sentence has nothing to do with anything else in this piece of writing. I didn’t need to give that particular thought a platform. Or that one. Or that one. Or that one. Or…. You get the picture. Do you? I don’t.

Right, it’s Mail time.

 

I’ve just been on the paper’s homepage for less than a minute and I can see that there is plenty of writing material on there alone, without even having to go deeper into the site. Man, this paper really is scummy. Worse than scummy. It’s nasty. Cruel and nasty.

On their homepage, right near the top, this is one of their main article links:

What the fuck? This is a paper that supposedly regards itself as a provider of serious news. Britain’s most-read print newspaper. How fucking nasty and offensive is the headline alone? Bingo wings? Thunder thighs? This whole thing is wrong on too many levels to list. Above all else it is sexist. But just the fact that it is on the main page of a newspaper, masquerading as an article worthy of anyone’e time, pisses me off. And look! 22 comments! Who the fuck has got anything so important to say on this ‘article’ that they take the time to articulate their thoughts in the comment section provided? Better have a look, eh? And I suppose I should read the ‘article.’ I don’t even feel right calling it an article.

I can’t be arsed to read the whole thing, it’s pretty long, so I’m just skimming it. Its basic argument is that the theory that if you burn off more calories than you eat you will lose weight, is a myth. Fuck off! I quote:  ‘Conventional wisdom has persistently advanced the view that if you burn off more calories than you eat, you’ll lose weight.However, emerging research suggests another reason for that stubborn spare tyre or pair of bingo wings: your hormones.’

Emerging research suggests? Who’s doing this research? Shut up Mail, you’re talking shit! And calling a bit of fat a spare tyre. Who wrote this? Some 40-year old slag who has slept her way to the role she now fills at the Mail, and is bitter and pines for her youth? I do not know, I am just imagining. I don’t know anything about the person responsible for the story. Also, I am aware that the sentence I used was sexist. I just thought that while writing about one of the Mail’s ‘journalists’ I would do so in the style of my target. Also it means that if there are any Mail readers reading this, I have just spoken to them in language that they appreciate and can understand. And for those of you that aren’t Mail readers, you will pat yourselves on the back for getting the irony. Or maybe I’m overestimating your intelligence. More likely I’m overestimating mine. Now you should be wondering if I’m still being ironic, or if my ego has reached a level that has turned you off of me a bit. And now the thought should be, ‘Is he still being ironic, even now, or  is he actually that deluded that he thinks there was a time that we weren’t turned off by him?’ I could keep this bit going. I won’t.

Next to the ‘article’ there’s a photo of a woman that I think other women are supposed to see as fat and unattractive. Except this woman has what I would call the perfectly average body, with emphasise on the word ‘perfectly.’ I imagine it is a similar shape to a large majority of the women the story is aimed at. Which means these perfectly healthy looking women are essentially looking at a photo of themselves, presented to them by the mass media, and that picture of themselves has been labelled as ugly. Why are we as thinking human beings letting the people that provide us with information get away with this? Why should it be acceptable? This woman in the picture is not fat! There is nothing unhealthy looking about her body at all. So what have the Mail done? They’ve put her in massive granny knickers to make her look unattractive, just in case not every woman looking at the picture was suitably shocked by the fact that this woman’s legs have a bit of meat on ’em. ‘Oh my! Would you look at the state of those fatty knickers! Gross! If I ever get like that, see to it that I am taken out the back and shot.’
‘But you are like that.’
‘Well then good job the Mail is here to tell me how to change my life. I feel so disgusting right now I could cry. Good job I’ve got the Mail here to understand me and to help me.’

fat story

As I said, I can’t be arsed to read the whole story, but it just goes through a list of different, for want of a better word, symptoms, of being chubby, and then tells you what causes each symptom and how to, again for want of a better word, cure it.

Obviously, the Mail being the serious newspaper that it is, this list of symptoms is full of technical jargon and scientific terms. If you need to, I suggest consulting a medical dictionary for definitions.

The symptoms listed are:

BULGING BACK AND BRA FLAB

LOVE HANDLES

BINGO WINGS

THUNDER THIGHS

JELLY BELLY

CHUNKY CALVES/ANKLES

I’ve actually just bothered to read the whole article. It’s your standard Mail irrational sensationalist scaremongering. Apparently if you have a bit of back flab then you probably have an underactive thyroid and should consult your doctor immediately for a blood test! Got love handles? Then you’ve probably got diabetes. You should also stop eating bread! Stop eating it now! NOW! According to the Mail, if you’ve got bingo wings you’ve not got enough testosterone in your body. Now I’m just speaking for myself here, but I tend to like my women without too much testosterone. I have never in my life heard any person, male or female, talking about the problem of lack of testosterone in a woman. I know what you’re thinking: “Man, Kris, you have lived a sheltered life!” Ha! Anyway, for all you ladies in need of a good intake of testosterone, there is hope. Just be sure to eat plenty of avocado, salmon and seeds. Seeds?! Better start doing your food shopping at the pet shop. Budgie section.

Suffering with a case of thunder thighs? That’ll be too much oestrogen, that will. And according to the Mail:

‘It may look good on Beyonce, but fat on the buttocks and thighs can be a sign of raised levels of oestrogen as well as poor oestrogen metabolism.’ 

Why is Beyonce being judged to different standards to the women reading this article? Why if it looks good on one woman would it not look good on another? And again what sort of journalism is this? ‘It may look good on Beyonce…..’ That’s not journalism! It’s objectification. Call me naïve but isn’t Beyonce a recording artist who should be judged on her music and not on her high oestrogen levels and how well she wears them? I’m not that naïve, I’m being facetious. But yea.

If you’ve got a jelly belly it’s down to too much cortisol in the body. That’s the stress hormone. You need to destress, man, you need to destress. Also, and I quote: ‘There is good news: don’t over-exercise. Another study found that exercising for longer than 45 minutes could increase fat around the stomach as it’s thought that the body releases cortisol in response to the stress of running.’

Yea that’s right. If you’ve got a bit of a belly and you were thinking of losing it the good old fashioned way, with a bit of exercise, DON’T! EXERCISE WILL ONLY MAKE YOU FAT!

And finally let me pass on some advice to those of you with chunky calves or ankles. Or both. You don’t have enough growth hormone in your body, and this hormone is produced when you sleep, so you’re probably not sleeping enough. The best advice the Mail has for you is: ‘Only use your bedroom as a place for sleep or sex.’  Definitely don’t use it as a place for smoking weed and watching comedy and documentaries in, and definitely don’t use it as a place for sitting in writing about how much you hate the Daily Mail. In fact, just don’t ever read the Mail. Full stop.

This whole ‘article’ is a waste of time, space and energy. The only use that I can see it being to any woman is that if when she started reading the story she was giving needless thought or worry to a bit of podge she might have been carrying, she is now able to distract herself from these feelings, and instead worry about how she needs to go to the doctor to find out if she has diabetes or an underactive thyroid! Brilliant. Or she’s wondering where to buy seeds.

My original plan was to go through loads of ‘articles’ on their site and get a load of writing variety. But this one ‘article’ has been enough. I can’t subject myself to more than this in one night. Instead I’ve just decided I’ll make this a regular thing. Whenever I’m bored, stoned, and have the urge to write but can’t think of anything worth saying, I’ll just click on to the Mail’s website and see what they give me.

Oh wait, shit, I nearly forgot. The comments! What did Mail readers have to say? I expect there’s some full blown intelligent and stimulating debate taking place.

First comment, from Randy in Calgary in Canada: “I’d give that big girl in the first pic a good rattle!” 

I’m not even going to comment on that. I don’t need to, do I?

I’ll leave you with my final thought, Jerry Springer style. Women, stop reading shit like this, stop obsessing about how your body looks, and allow yourself to feel beautiful regardless.

I’m done for tonight. Have some words of wisdom from John Trudell. Completely unrelated to anything else written here, I just felt like doing you all, well, you tiny few, a good turn.

 

Also, this essay entitled We Should All Be Feminists is an excellent read. Much better than anything I ever write.

Peace.

 

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5 Responses to “Fuck the Daily Mail!”

  1. ChasingWaterfalls March 27, 2014 at 10:09 am #

    Haha brilliant! I’m just wondering what voice has Scottish brothers? 😀

    • Kris Mole March 27, 2014 at 12:21 pm #

      That’ll be Angus

  2. kryssietyrtania March 30, 2014 at 10:18 pm #

    It means so much that such an eloquent writer and incredible thinker such as yourself has paid attention to my little ramble. Thank you so much, I can only aspire to be able to write a blog as fantastic as yours 🙂

    • Kris Mole March 31, 2014 at 9:55 am #

      Such kind words, thanks! Although totally unnecessary! But appreciated all the same.
      I don’t usually link to other blog posts, I think that was the first time actually, but I just thought it was that well written and articulated that it needed to be shared. You write with the style and ability of someone with many many more years writing experience, and I don’t mean that in a patronising way at all. Excellent.

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