Giving Mutallab seat 19A at Schiphol was a mistake that should lead to repaired airline security strategies. Homeland Security agencies worldwide have naturally stepped up their vigilance in case there are any other nut-exploding nutters out there with the same thing in mind.

One should not forget that it’s the failures of the likes of Al Qaeda bombers Mutallab, Reid, al-Owhali and (Hizb ut Tahrir’s) Bilal Abdulla, amongst many others, which go so far to show that the bogeyman (however brainwashed) is frail and fallible - something the hysteria of 9/11 too often implied he was not. Every bully is ripe for crushing - in every bully there hides a scrawny coward.

The extreme Islamist movement (as with other extremist movements like the BNP and Extreme Left) is full of scrawny cowards. The future promises to continue to teach the extreme Islamists a tough lesson until they snap out of their unrealistic, anti-social, dreadful plans for a world run by bearded Islamist nutters (a grim world where Sports Illustrated features a series of vomit-inducing Yvonne Ridley burkhini photographs and Lord Ahmed is promoted to Caliphate Transport Minister; his mantra “Don’t bother to stop - keep moving.”)

2009 has been a dreadful year for Al Qaeda and this next decade looks even grimmer for the terrorist network which has zero chance of fulfilling its chief goal of taking over a failed state. As Russia and China start to exert a heavier hand on the world’s tiller, so Guantanamo will come to be seen as a Butlin’s holiday camp for captured Al Qaeda cadres.

Both the Russians and the Chinese have their own inimitable way of dealing with human rights lawyers and other leftie nonses who kick up a fuss about the treatment of irredeemable Islamist psychopaths without having a better solution for these human explosives. Though Russia has its fair share of Islamist problems already within its borders, it is time for China to start looking for extremist Islamist prey abroad and exerting its influence in co-operation with the Allied powers in places like Afghanistan and through its existing power enclaves in Africa. If China focused half as much energy on combating Islamist terrorism as it does on diplomatic snubs, the Islamists are done for.

Closer to home, Harriet Harman enjoyed her last chance to have a pop at non-doms ahead of Labour’s anticipated election defeat. A pointless and embarrassing charade when the non-doms she was trying to get at pay more UK tax monthly than a leech like her has put in the public purse in a lifetime. 2010 will hopefully say Adieu rather than Au-Revoir to lightweights like her and the beginning of the end of her crazy, society-splitting quotas set by race, gender and sexual preference.

The Tories should find any legislative document with Harman’s signature on it and erase any of her changes - anything she touches she gets so terribly wrong. Her pointless “equality-enforcing” Qangos distinguishing between men and lesbians, blacks and whites and Caucasians and Hispanics - plenty of savings to be made there, Mr Osborne.  We are all equivalent without having people to daily remind us.

Shocking that someone like Harman, who has been in government for so long, can’t understand the dangers of all-encompassing tax ceilings on Britain’s brightest and richest - or admit to the Labour Government’s incessant use of offshore havens for gross-roll-up on its staff’s own cash.  Shocking that someone as talentless as Harman should stand in for a Prime Minister at PMQ - but less shocking when you consider that the Prime Minister she is standing in for is Gordon Brown, the unelected bottler running a fag-end government which had used up the genuine talent it had (save David Miliband and Mandelson) when Blair left.

2010 will surely go down in history as the start of a period of reflection on one of the worst Prime Ministers Britain has ever seen. Meanwhile Tony Blair will run rings around the Iraq inquiry and Labour will realise just how much it misses its Tory public schoolboy who dared to wear red.

*

A couple of relatively trifling Editor’s footnotes to 2009 (read on only if you really have nothing better to do):

It was pointed out to me last week that my old friend Abul Taher (formerly of the Sunday Times) wrote a piece for the online Guardian on New Year’s Eve about the arrest of counter terrorism researcher Glen Jenvey on suspicion of inciting religious hatred against Jews. I’m surprised news of this arrest took so long to surface when it happened way back in October 2009.

I won’t comment here on a case yet to reach the courts, except to say that this is a sorry stall in Jenvey’s counter extremism efforts - a serious dip in form I can only think was caused by a lack of money rather than any intended incitement. The man is no racist. I worked with Jenvey back in 2006/early 2007 (as did Taher) and back then he was sharp (the best extremist video and audio hunter out there) and certainly had no need or desire to fake anything, let alone a news story.

Of course, Jenvey’s bizarre fall has cast aspersions on other stories he’s been linked with. One or two 2009 pieces certainly seem a tad suspect. His fall has been a wake-up call to those engaged in exposing (particularly Islamist) extremism -  that sources must be waterproof and that newspapers are often readier to print than to check sources as thoroughly as they should. (I hear Jenvey was on his way down for other reasons before his fakery began - that’s a real shame and I hope personally things improve for the man).

Jenvey’s fakery was his (and possibly anyone else’s who worked directly alongside him in early 2009).

Meanwhile many others who are engaged in exposing extremist Islamism - me and colleagues included - have been accused by the pathetic quisling far left of fakery too. Their narrative goes: 911 was a fake, so every other War on Terror story is some Big Brother Black Flag fabrication thought up by Bilderberg. Of course - apart from Jenvey’s Jewish Hitlist piece - no fakery has been found and we have simply added these narrow-minded, paranoid, extreme Islamist allies to our long list of targets. 2010 - annus horribilis for the quisling Far Left.

I have been very open in the part I played in Jenvey’s downfall in 2009. I chose to use a recording in my possession - which revealed Jenvey as the author of a fake posting on an Islamist web forum - to prove once and for all that his story was a fake. Without emission of that recording, Jenvey may have gone on to cause further mayhem and there could have been serious societal consequences to his faked evidence.

I suppose I released the recording in the interests of social cohesion - also at the insistence of Jewish and Muslim friends. In retrospect I absolutely did the right thing. What I failed to do was chose a sound vehicle to release the recording through. Not being a police matter at the time, nor of mainstream interest, I decided to settle for just a blog. (In retrospect I should have sent the recording to Iain Dale or Guido Fawkes - alas I made the error of releasing through amateurs).

Like 99% of the British public, I didn’t bother ever reading blogs. I had no idea in March 2009 that the blog I released the recording through was run by a psychotic, Australian proven liar and all-round twat - a political ignoramus now poisoning these islands with his continued presence here. I should have noticed the “conspiracies” button on his site and put two and two together (for him 2+2=7).

Only after passing the recording to this individual did I hear that this person was THE online stalker of the Blogosphere; a one-man freak show some fool let reside here in Britain. He has turned out to be the biggest idiot I have ever come across (and having spent a while at both Respect and Islamist meetings as a watcher, I assure you that this is a colossal claim but one that I can make without the slightest shadow of a doubt).

The idiot I am talking about is a brash, cultureless forty-something, Britain-hating, mid-life crisis, Australian immigrant + half-wit called Tim Ireland, who runs the conspiracy and Tory-hate site Bloggerheads from his bedroom in Surrey. Bloggerheads is a nasty site full of baseless attacks. Ireland can dish out nasty, baseless attacks but he can’t take any form of criticism himself - claiming any criticism to be a direct threat to “him and his family”. Pathetic, I know - others prefer the word wretched.   (If you ever come across this man - unlikely as he doesn’t get out that much - do us all a favour: slap some cash in his hand and point him to the nearest Qantas office).

For Ireland, the Jenvey recording was a hundred Christmases all in one go - it was real, verifiable evidence for a real story (usually Ireland writes on the back of email evidence - the kind which is easy enough to concoct in an afternoon in Starbucks with a wireless notebook and mocha). The Jenvey story is the only original story he and his blogging partner Richard Bartholomew have covered in the whole of 2009. I know - shocking result for two nerds who spend their whole lives online (sorry - tragic waste of time I know - but to verify this point check their Twitter feeds and blog post timings. You’ll see what I mean).

Ireland (as you can see from the above sorry picture!) has a manic, insecure requirement to be centre of attention (at the cost and annoyance of others) while Bartholomew (for obvious reasons of aestheticism) keeps his head down and lives off Ireland’s scraps (when not parroting others’ stories about religion). Bartholomew is a Damian Thompson wannabe while Ireland regularly loses games of Tic Tac Toe with chickens (yup, he’s funny farm alright).

Fortunately for the planet, Ireland is not at the centre of anything - he has achieved nowt and is a sorry, twisted, bitter little man who lives in a council house in Surrey and drives a beaten-up, old people carrier full of spent indigestion tablet boxes, Nicorette gum and Antabuse packets. (He’s addictive and obsessive.) He’s not someone who seems very happy with his lot (as part of the Surrey villages’ underclass he doesn’t have a lot and is probably too proud to take the marvellous hand-outs made available to his sort at the many Conservative Party Jumble Sales arranged in his area).

While Ireland goes after Tories, his devotee Bartholomew prefers to wind up thick religious bigots and smear anyone to the right of him politically (Bartholomew’s blog is the 21st Century version of Pooter’s Notes. It’s mostly about cassocks, pulpits and inbred vicars with the occasional voodoo priest thrown in. It’s a slow drip-drip of snore-snore punctuated with a sporadic political sideshow thrown in to please his psycho Australian friend, who seems to visit Barf’s site between stalks for mutual admiration sessions where Barf is Sméagol polishing Ireland’s ring).

Both these muppets put themselves on pedestals and so both deserve the now regular wallopings they get from people (like me) ill-fated enough to stumble across them in their extraneous swamp on the net. (BTW the police rule on verbally attacking these individuals is you can basically say what you want about them as long as what you say does not break any laws or qualify as harassment. For what constitutes illegal harassment, look at Ireland’s site, but especially his Twitter feed - both are full of it.)

I simply failed to realise when I passed Ireland the Jenvey recording in March 2009 (Tim Ireland only came clean about this to me later, in a now well-publicised email) that Ireland was the laughing stock of the Blogosphere - an online stalker referred to by others as the Candy Man.  Ireland had already been exposed by superior bloggers as a harasser and all round nutter. Ireland admitted his reputation was torn to shreds and would take years to recover (and at the time he was referring to his reputation in the UK - not just Australia). Ireland’s acts of stalking and tendency to threaten people online are well-documented. In one sorry, well documented chapter of his stalking life, Ireland even threatened his vanquisher, Iain Dale, with virus attacks:

http://cheeseford.blogspot.com/2009/04/when-i-was-member-of-my-universitys.html?showComment=1241822580000#c8244331877504084278

As well as having a reputation as a psycho stalker, Ireland was already (back in March 2009) someone who had lost the respect of the UK’s blogosphere (on the left and right) after various pointless fallings-out online.

Still reading? (Seriously you must have something better to do?!)

After working with Ireland for a while on the Jenvey story (my scoop, Ireland’s flail), it soon became clear to me that Ireland relentlessly harasses his victims by phone, Twitter, email and third party until they get so fed up with him they call the police or lawyers. His world is a chaos driven by paranoia and obsession. As soon as the police or lawyers are on the scene he shouts about “free speech infringements” and “harassment”. (And by Gum, he squeams one hell of a lot - he is the Violet Elizabeth Bott of the Far Left fringe). This whole charade is an attempt to get recognition as some kind of victim-cum-people’s champion; a strategy which fails miserably as his “unhinged” infamy rises and everyone sees his victim-acting and campaigns are all about him and his lunacy. Think Palestinians sending murderous rockets onto a Tel Aviv beach then squeaming when the Israelis justifiably knock out the launcher.

Ireland’s victims (there are now at least fifty of them) hate him - apart from those idealists who just pity him (as one might a buffoon or baboon). Meanwhile, trained librarian Bartholomew cheerleads Ireland and usually escapes the fall-out - he’s spineless that way and tends to avoid any form of contretemps which might possibly steam up his pince-nez.

A left wing commentator has called Bartholomew “the most seditious, cowardly invertebrate tosser you’ll ever come across” - that should give you some idea about him. Take one look at him and you can empathise with Bartholomew’s bitterness.

In my opinion Bartholomew IS malevolent (he’ll love that). Ireland doesn’t have the grey matter to be evil (he’s the kind of Australian who Crocodile Dundee would trounce on Countdown - the kind of Australian Rupert Murdoch gets to iron his newspapers in the morning when he’s staying in Sydney). Bartholomew is an untrustworthy, little shit - he doesn’t play victim at all because (unlike Ireland) he doesn’t have anyone who he bothers enough to notice him.

I have been wholly unimpressed by both these morons and have to say that if they are what the far left has to offer the British political blogosphere (I think they aspire to be political bloggers but one cannot be sure) then David Cameron should chuckle his way virtually, heartily through 2010 as far as Commie and quisling threats are concerned.

Anyone who ever comes under attack from these toothless rugrats of the web should simply refer to my previous exposés on these liars and smearers. Never reply to their questions - “no comment” works a treat with them and drives them up the wall. Put up a picture of yourself online smiling (that REALLY gets under their skin). If, like me, you occasionally feel like giving them a good verbal hiding then I have great news for you - they have more holes in them than an industrial sieve; more warts on them than a hundred portraits of Oliver Cromwell. Roll on 2010!

Ireland is so short of material for his blog (the Jenvey story has taken over a year…..so far) and paranoid that he spends more than three quarters of his entries obsessively settling old scores with (mostly Tory) bloggers who left him for dead in terms of user numbers years ago. (FYI football analogy: the Blogosphere’s Guido Fawkes and Iain Dale are Arsenal and Liverpool - Tory Bear is Man City - compared to Ireland as non-league Brainfree Town).

Ireland uses Twitter to openly stalk and threaten Tory MPs who, privately, are mostly bemused by how creepy he is. What is this person doing in Britain having left Australia having any comment to make on British politics at all? Who let him in? Why did he leave Australia? Will he attack my family? Boil my daughter’s bunny? What is his problem? (Questions about Oz getting answers in 2010 by the way - thank you Australian cousins for your help in 2009 and continued help in 2010. Truly shocking the info you have passed us so far. I know Ireland fled of his own accord - we don’t blame you for landing us with him like you landed us with Puppetry of the Penis).

For a while Tory politicians thought Ireland was on the payroll of some sinister slimeball like Tom Watson or Damian McBride then I let them know the truth about who he is and how he lives- that he’s a complete and utter, disconnected drop-out and liar who thinks Labour are fascists anyway. So they simply marked him down in the nutter column alongside constituents who write letters daily about Leylandii disputes or provide regular photographic evidence of dancing badgers.

One Tory politician I spoke to declared - claret pumping through his stout frame - how wonderful it would be if “Ireland were hit by a bus”. Another described him concisely as “a regrettable immigration error”. Ireland’s near neighbour less politely described him as “a total f****** w*****.” In my opinion he is all these things and more. I value the nail clippings of a random stranger more - I would not jump in a swirling river after either.

It could just be rumour but I heard the penal deportation guys got it right with the long-dead, Australia-deported Ireland ancestor first time round (if we are dealing with the same flawed genes here). There is a theory doing the rounds alleging that Ireland has REVENGE written on his bathroom mirror in haemorrhoid cream below a picture of a certain Great Uncle Sid Ireland (who may or may not have ever existed). On the wooden frame of the picture of Uncle Sid (deported for pig-fiddling by Tories) are supposedly (scratched by human nail) the words “Woz but a cudle. Torees r baasturds”. This would explain so much - come after Tories with a pile of rubbish because you thought that in the past Tories came after one of your own with a pile of rubbish too.

If Tim Ireland was someone known, rather than a fat twat of a non-entity, maybe Eire and the North would run a campaign to have his name changed by deed poll. He does as much credit to his surname as Fred West does to his.

Both Bartholomew and Ireland are up to their necks in unsavoury, conspiracist and oddball connections. Think a cocktail of Zeitgeist and One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest with Michael Moore, Ken Loach, Abu Hamza and a bunch of Truthers as directors. These freaks are the kind of people who - if I ever caught them breaking into my house - I would be minded to risk a Tony Martin on.

Ireland’s very close to Hizb ut Tahrir’s Craig Murray (the Foreign Office reject whose fiction gets bought up en masse by HT), both Bartholomew and Ireland are in cahoots with Strathclyde’s Bolshevik wing Spinwatch (a kabal allied to the repugnant Osama Saeed’s odious Scottish Islamic Foundation - a group of far left losers recently exposed as a smear shop on Harry’s Place and Spittoon; soon to be damaged more lastingly).

Bartholomew and Ireland - whilst working with Ummah.com to expose Jenvey - described the vermin-infested Islamist website (Al Qaeda central UK) as “not too bad”.  (They have about as much an idea of Islamist extremism as any common and garden leftist quisling but are actually stupid enough to go public with their ignorance. When I was asked by Ireland to explain various points in Islamist posts, it soon became clear he didn’t have the foggiest - I had to explain to him what a kuffar was and point out to him that insha’allah was not a case of a Jenvey misused apostrophe but the way that many Muslims write “god-willing”).

In retrospect, if anything positive came of me releasing the Jenvey recording through Bloggerheads and Bartholomew, it was the consequent exposure of Ireland and Bartholomew to the real world; to people who can do something about them if they feel they ever have to. Showing these two up to be a couple of sorry lightweights who no-one of any importance listens to, whose penchant for fabrication and bias are now clear for all to see.

How it hurts these two oddballs that the mainstream press ignores them. That the British population buys mainstream papers - especially the Mail and the Sun. Ireland is just a sock-puppet-loving twit - self-declared “genius” - with his uneducated head stuck irretrievably up his sorry Australian ass. Bartholomew (the all-round ugliest Mr Potato Head one could care to meet - so ugly that when I met him in a pub I feared he might use his crisp bag as a nose-bag) hiding behind a smoke-screen interest in religion to take pop shots at anyone to the political right of him with his powerless, pointless potato gun of a weblog that few visit and none refer to.

Anything good about this sad pair? There is some entertainment value to be had in their ongoing tragedy. I wouldn’t say that their mid-life crises should always be pitied from a distance - there is some fun in sharing their heart-rending ride.

For me it’s their delusion I love - that’s what keeps me laughing at them. Most people in Britain spend a maximum of a couple of hours online - these two bug-eyed jokers are so virtual they have made themselves ill. The web and Twitter are killing them. They actually think they have an audible voice in the hustle and bustle of British politics when the only roles they have are shifting their bile-stained mice and tapping their smegma-ridden keyboards in their respective attics full of dead air, bitterness, perversions and augmenting mid-life crisis.

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.

The insecurity of Stalker & Barf is now so apparent Bartholomew puts a picture of himself on his blog from a rare Politics Show appearance (the BBC show researcher must have typed in Religion and Blog into Google and out popped Barf - Damian Thompson was unavailable as were several others, so make-up tried their best) while Ireland, as aforementioned, has brought his family into the equation saying that an attack on him is an attack on his family (err, no it’s not, you twat).

Now no-one listens to this pair and no-one answers their questions. The police are fed up with them and Ireland will surely soon be had for wasting police time / harassment. It’s a hugely frustrating lose-lose situation for them and right now they are so sidelined they are standing way outside of the stadium. My advice to them - shut up and keep on walking towards the sunset of ignominy you sorry losers.

Hysterically, these two are so paranoid they see your silence as aggression.  Bartholomew and Ireland think that my recent silence is either because I am using silence as a tactic to unsettle them or because I, amongst other Tories in some extraordinary conspiracy, am hiding / hiding something. (No, Stalker and Barf - I simply have a life to lead. I cannot spend my every day hammering you further into the ground as I have better things to be getting on with like hammering extreme Islamists, being with my wonderful family and enjoying life.) 

Bartholomew is so furious with me he’s even brought my wife into posts about me - charming. It’s not her fault he was dropped as a baby.

Ireland is so embittered that I’ve once and for all exposed him as the flawed individual he is that he is the prime candidate for a series of late-night calls my family has been getting, as well as prime candidate for sticking a stone behind the brake calliper on my wife’s car. I’d not put either past him - I often shine a torch in the hedge before I lock up at night, half expecting this Aussie plonker to be hidden in there in a balaclava and kagoule humming the Citizen Smith theme tune. Ireland is the archetypal stalker and freak. (Actually let me use Ireland’s self-description. In his own words: “it's now widely established in many minds that I'm a stalker and a nutter.” Couldn’t put it better myself, Timothy.)

Both individuals’ supporters have either left them or they too are that short of friends they’ve stuck to the virtual ones they think they have. (They should ditch these two and fast before they too drown in their aftermath). Ireland’s madness has deteriorated into creating (unfunny) Muppet shows with sock-puppets whilst standing in a Surrey field. (These shows are seemingly about Tories). I’m surprised he has not been arrested for public weirdness. Few watch these moronic videos posted on YouTube. The funny thing is, Ireland thinks Conservative Central Office must be shaking in pee-filled boots at his productions - Quem Deus Vult Perdere Prius Dementat.

Fantasist Ireland thinks he’s a big beast in the Blogosphere but people either just laugh straight in his face now or give him bella cara (you know, the smily face you give the nutter on the bus so that he chooses someone else to stab upstairs on the top deck). Whilst bloggers are gaining more political weight as the election approaches, Ireland’s suffering from political bulimia.

It’s not that Ireland doesn’t have his uses. As one commentator wrote, “if you are starting a blog and want to get a few visitors from nowhere, just wind up Tim Ireland at Bloggerheads”. I am not in the visitor-collection business but I’d recommend Ireland-bating to anyone with any spare time on their hands. Maybe we have found that satisfactory replacement for fox-hunting after all (no offence intended to any foxes). Until someone shows me that Ireland is a vulnerable adult, hunt is on - winner is the one who drives him back down under. (Maybe Barf will join him - not sure there are many libraries in Alice Springs). Be sure to stay within the law.

Amazingly, Ireland’s Ego bubble hasn’t burst yet. Just the other day unknown Ireland declared himself more popular than Private Eye because he has more Twitter followers than the famous satirical magazine. I doubt anyone from Private Eye was paying any attention (they were probably enjoying offline Christmas with their offline families - I doubt may knew they even had a Twitter page). Still, it’s worth Private Eye editor Ian Hislop asking his staff to create a few dozen Twitter profiles each and engage in multiple personality disorder for a weekend. By taking this leaf out of Ireland’s Book of Delusion, Private Eye will set off all the conspiracy bells in Ireland’s uber-paranoid head and he’ll be on the next Qantas back to Wagga Wagga dribbling and crying for teddy. (From the content of Ireland’s last emails to me, I am guessing he’s close to hanging up his poison pen again and snapping like a wishbone. Last I heard he was building an igloo without a door. That’s a start, as I’m told the last bricks need to be positioned from the inside. Long live the Big Freeze!)

Still reading? I’ll continue then.

I was obliged to be in Ireland’s home village of Bramley over Christmas for a drinks party (no I didn’t get an invite to one of his Kaliber and nuts parties - I know people who have lived in Bramley generations longer than him, so no I wasn’t there with menace). When I mentioned to the party holder that he lived a few roads down from the biggest nutter, stalker on the web (planet) he was moved to go and see Ireland’s house for himself.

Indeed there was all round curiosity (the drinks party - mulled wine was involved - was not the best). No-one at the party had heard of Tim Ireland but wanted to see what kind of Tory-hating prat would move to a Surrey village which was Margaret Thatcher’s favourite place to spend Christmas when she was in power.

A party of five men and their dogs (not pit bulls - labs and retrievers in that part of Surrey) ventured into Ireland’s council estate and into his road, aptly named Windrush Avenue (an avenue for some reason marked by a public toilets arrow rather than a street sign - I am not making this up). The aim of the game was to identify Ireland’s dwelling among the many shabby houses and flats in the estate. I put up a bottle of Scotch for the winner (alas I couldn’t locate any Uzbek vodka).

It was a fellow called Harry who won the game. His “you can’t polish a turd” theory won the spoils. Ireland’s house you see is the only house on the entire estate with leaded lattice windows (rather than bog standard clear borough council windows). Presumably from the inside - (if you are bonkers and) if you position yourself so you are looking up only at the clouds rather than at the block of flats in front of you - you can delude yourself into thinking that you are living in a Tudor mansion or a Barratt home. Harry figured that Ireland - having tried to disguise the reality of his pitiful existence using the Internet - would try to do the same to his house. Clever - he guessed right - no wonder he’s a high-ranking copper. Makes Colombo look dumb.

Anyway, all Tories I know are urging me to continue the “war” with Stalker and Barf in 2010 with daily lambasts; even embracing Twitter, police and lawyers. I agree it is better to have these twerps focused on me than have them on the back of some election-focused Tory MP. I love my country and I love where I am from but I’m afraid I have far too much of a valuable life than to embrace Twitter or waste my time, or the police’s time, on these losers. Stalk and Barf now have their 2010 message of goodwill from me (it should take them a few hundred blog posts and a few thousand twitter posts snearing me to recover from) - stick this New Year missive in your pipes you leftie nonses (and do us all a favour and choke on it).

Oh, there is one last point I’d like to clear up, for the sake of it:

In the course of Ireland’s and Bartholomew’s war with me, they both publicly stated that I was behind some individuals’ pathetic Twitter attacks on Ireland and that I was somehow part of a group of “thugs” known as the Cheerleaders. Ireland went further than to merely allege that I was “orchestrating” attacks on him through these Cheerleaders (something I’ll revisit after March 17th), calling me their “leader”.

Ireland played the wounded Tom Cat/Total Pussy to violin music for a few weeks and Bartholomew still has a pathetic “Defend Tim Ireland” badge on his website in dutiful solidarity (ah, how sweet). Ireland once again wheeled out his family coming up with some drivel about “we are thinking we will have to leave the house now. The family is scared.” Pile of absolute fabrication. The police - when I showed them, informally, how Ireland was harassing me - tell me the stalker often pretends to be the stalked.

Claiming I manage thugs is as nuts as claiming Tim Ireland has friends you’d want to spend time with.

I see Barf is now trying to associate one man and his dog with the Cheerleaders. (I doubt they’ve noticed).

At the time of this allegation, I denounced the Cheerleaders’ attacks and made clear to anyone who asked that I was nothing at all to do with the Cheerleaders. Those people who know me (including Ireland and Bartholomew) know perfectly well I do not associate myself with thugs - we are very short of them here in the Surrey villages in any case and my trips up to London are generally restricted to SW & W1 where again thugs are hard to find. I’ve come across some Chavez-supporting thugs in South America but they can’t read or write, let alone use Twitter. Whether the Cheerleaders are thugs or not, I’ve never been associated with them apart from by Ireland and Bartholomew.

The Cheerleaders allegedly published Ireland’s address in Bramley all over the web and did various other things which upset him (threatening him on Twitter). Though I love it when Ireland gets given what he dishes, I made clear at the time I did not support the Cheerleaders’ actions - Barf has admitted as much on his weblog.

Anyway, to cut a long story short (if you are still reading this you definitely have too much time on your hands), I asked a middleman back in September 2009 to get me a statement from the Cheerleaders clarifying their position with relation to me - thought it might be a useful thing to have. It (an audio disc) was sent to me via this middleman shortly before Christmas - it took quite a while - and I have posted it on YouTube and linked it below. Excuse the language but I thought it best not to approach the Cheerleaders again for a polite version in case my go-between found himself whacked on the head with a twirling stick.

The recording is as clear as day. I repeat - I am no Cheerleader, I have never had any role within, or influence over, the Cheerleaders. I am nothing to do with their strategies or alleged targeting of individuals. Ireland and Bartholomew’s smear - one of several strategic lies thought up by these quisling Black-Reds - was created to make out that the bully and stalker Tim Ireland was a victim when the British Blogosphere knows full well he has never been a victim at all. It was used to smear me so - to please their Islamist pals - I’d stop writing about the appalling things extreme Islamists are getting up to in Britain today. My report-writing has never been so productive as since their smears!

With this absolute, total vindication in the bag, I wish you a successful and prosperous 2010 and urge all anti-extremist Islamists and anti-leftie quislings to continue to expose your quarry this year. Hold them no quarter. Hammer them until they flee in their rancid tank-tops and cardigans for an Abkhazian commune. Do not be satisfied until they have banshee-screamed like Ireland and either cracked or surrendered. Destroy the Britain-hating, quisling far left - it brings shame to this country.

2010 will be a great year for Britain and a Tory Tsunami - supported by half of Labour - will no doubt do us all a great deal of good. Happy New Year to you all (aforementioned leftist muppets excepted).

Dominic Wightman is the Editor of the Westminster Journal.

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