Why am I such a fan?

Online war kicked off between these morons and I back in August 2009 when I found out Ireland had been supplying information about me to the aforementioned Strathclyde smearers, Spinwatch. (Ireland broke a relationship which was supposed to be confidential. He lied.) So Ireland had the first shot.

I waited for my chance to expose him (I considered it worthwhile as he’s been on the back of some good sorts in recent years). When the time came I shot a most satisfactory broadside at him after he had poured out all his weirdo feelings to me in a series of emails. I dared expose his multifarious weaknesses to a blogosphere which had learnt to keep this nutter on the bus well away - and they loved me for it.

On receipt of my broadside, Ireland lost the plot and Bartholomew (generously) has since given me a weekly slot on his dull weblog alongside his catalogue of vicars and Moonies in a variety of vain attempts to smear me. All the while quite a picture of who these once address-hidden individuals are offline has been building (and how they have hated losing their anonymity! For now these cowards have to face up to the fact that those they smear and wind up know where to send the writs - information their victims are absolutely entitled to legally and morally).

Bartholomew and Ireland’s network has been lit up like a Christmas tree, the two of them have been shown to be as biased as can be (a betrayal really of a blogosphere dreamt up to transmit the free, independent, unbiased voice, which they hypocritically claim to hold so dear) and meanwhile I’ve been smeared to the moon and back by them and their tragic, quisling comrades. The smears have not been that imaginative - I expect they’ll call me a paedophile soon.

When my first broadside was published, I was stunned by the numbers of pats on the back I received. People I had never heard of - Tory, Labour and leftie - emailed this site and sent their congratulations. “Smash the bully” they all cheered. At about the same time one of Ireland’s allies (possibly one of his multiple personalities) emailed me criticising my article on Ireland offering me lessons in “real journalism”. I did not reply to this person’s email (full of spelling horrors) but sent it around supporters and friends who belly-laughed when they saw that this loser was a staff writer for some dreadful-sounding rag run on chatline income (I forget the name; something like the Essex Echo). I received other emails from Ireland’s “supporters” (most were just him using an IP address hider) and made a point of not replying to any. Stalker & Barf’s boat had taken a real hit.

Now Ireland and Barf’s smear strategy makes out as if I was at Jenvey’s side when he wrote his fake story when the fact is - and they know it well - I have not worked with Jenvey on any project since March 2007. Fact: when Jenvey was conjuring his fakery I was well away (and internetless) in South America and certainly not in contact with Jenvey. Fact: their smears continue but I am glad to say that these two losers have been so utterly outed and irreparably damaged in 2009 that their sites might as well come with a Fiction code on them. (They might as well write their smears on Poundstretcher bog roll for that matter - that way quintupling the worth, usefulness and bearing of their writings.)

Still reading? You amaze me! Get a life!

From being once visited sites, both Bartholomew and Ireland are now running virtually commentless, seldomly-visited online wrecks. Blog league tables do not feature them at all - sad for people whose full-time occupation is blogging. Ireland’s recent online skirmishes with me have turned off any remaining audience he had (alas, I am hardly interesting, cutting-edge reading material however outlandish their smears - I absolutely LOVE the fact that without even trying I have so buried myself under their quisling skins!).

Like many Aussies, Ireland - following Kylie, Donovan and Craig McLachlan over here expecting streets paved with gold - has merely seen a grim perpetuation of the same ugly failure he saw in the mirror back in Oz. Must be tough being such a sorry twat - Kylie’s refrain “if I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky” must cause him nightmares while McLachlan’s grin must reduce the sorry wretch to tears.

Mr Potato-head Bartholomew meanwhile has a gigantic chip (apologies) on his shoulder about grey matter (let’s face it; the man has no other area in life where he can get away with pretending to excel, though he has not yet taken up either carpet bowls or snail racing so he shouldn’t yet give up hope on success in life). With Bartholomew it’s the small things - the sideshows - that count. For example, he has never forgiven me for mentioning in passing that I received a three B offer from Cambridge to study Theology but decided to study something “real” and so went to the London School of Economics and Political Science instead. (Bartholomew could only manage a Theology course at Kent University). I personally don’t give a damn if anyone has been to university or not, or which one - I can’t remember why we were even talking about such a dull subject. But for this librarian from Kent, such pettiness represents one of those life-hinging fulcrums. Sort of weed you chuck a rugby ball to and he throws it straight up in the air for fear of getting tackled. I mistakenly thought I saw him at the end of my garden the other day so went out to greet him - it was a spent pumpkin from Halloween which my wife had dumped on a pile of compost.

A review of Bartholomew’s blog shows how this intellectual pipsqueak has suffered hugely when people far brighter than him have gone to his site and pointed out the many inaccuracies in his posts. Consequently he’s tried to up his vocabulary of late; to fake intelligence (in a sorrier way than Jenvey!). His posts have lost their readability - offering yet more gaping errors and inaccuracies. (The portrait in Bartholomew’s attic is now as cracked as the mirrors chez Barf). I’ve asked around and people seem increasingly fed up with Bartholomew’s site and bored by him - it’s his right to run a site however crap it is. As one commenter mentioned the other day, “does anyone bother reading this site anymore?” Answer: “nope”.

Bartholomew even admitted to me he finds it “a chore to fill the pages” of his weblog. So give up you sorry twat - not as if you are doing anyone any favours or helping your political cause (whatever that might be). Use your librarian qualifications to get a full time job helping pensioners in some decaying, old council library where your revolting mug is hidden behind a computer monitor. Contribute something to Great British society rather than trying to protect extreme Islamist dross and winding up religious bigots (who are nuts by definition anyway).

Still reading?! (I know Stalker & Barf are. If you are, you really need to get a life!) Where were we?

So in the last six months Bartholomew has been shown up as a complete lightweight. Ireland meanwhile has been committing blogger hari-kari by writing open letters on his blog to a variety of politicians and public figures which never get answered - proving simply that he is a powerless, irrelevant, Australian individual (shrimp out of water) running a pointless site and a particularly nasty (borderline/test-case illegal) hate campaign against elected and unelected Tories.