Pity the Showbiz Sociopaths


First there was Brexit, and now the local elections have confirmed it: the British people are no mugs. To the know-it-all celebrities who have the biggest platforms and the loudest voices, the message has come through loud and clear: screw you.

The rich and fabulous love nothing more than to emote tragically on how Brexit is the end of the world, Tories are evil, and Socialism is wonderful. Selflessly, like Jesus, they provide constant public guidance on what steps us unwashed serfs should take to improve ourselves and vote correctly.

The problem with this is that celebrities are idiots. Even the once clever ones are now bottom of the class, because they’re trapped in a showbiz alternative reality. Money is thrown at them and they’re surrounded by sycophantic bumlickers. So even the tiny minority who did have some latent intelligence quickly lose it, as their brains become rotten and squelchy through being constantly told how wonderful they are, when in fact, they’re not.

Viewed through the flat screen of social media, politically judgmental celebrities become two dimensional caricatures. Every feeble brain twitch they have is amplified dramatically. Each lopsided ejaculation of politically correct slop gets notched up to 11, when the best place for it would be down the shitter. Every flaw in their thinking is exposed mercilessly, and the vacuous one-sidedness of their position slaps you in the face.

Bothering to understand only one side of the argument, celebrities are horribly partisan. And they’re the very worst kind of partisans, not schemers who spin deliberately, but dunces who project their bias because they’re simply ignorant of the facts, and have no wish to consider any opinion that challenges their worldview.

The worst case proselytizers dehumanize and fail to understand their opponents as a matter of habit because, being sociopathic big shots who always get their own way, they’ve forgotten that other people’s ideas are just as valid as their own.

And so the caricatures solidify as the luvvies entrench, mutating into blustering, megaphone voiced bullies, understanding almost nothing of the world, but spitting out their pompous messages nonetheless, day after day, stopping not once to listen to alternative points of view.

Recently, some of them have set themselves up as courageously facing down a tide of authoritarianism, but in fact, it’s the dissent clubbing celebs themselves who are the authoritarians. They despise democracy because it keeps throwing up results they don’t like, and spoiled brats can’t handle not getting their own way.

What kind of two bit tyrant would rail against democracy and then brand themselves as the good guy? Answer: a celebrity idiot. They thought they were the misfit rebels, but the truth is the precise opposite: they are the establishment conformists. They are the fat cats, sneering at the workers. They are the conceited, inbred aristocrats, sniffy and disdainful of the rabble gathering outside. They’ve become everything they might once have despised, before they were famous. They’re maddened and neurotic, flabby and ensconced, and too precious, unhinged and uptight to ever realise what they’ve turned into.

Here’s an example of a famous gobshite you might once have thought was reasonably smart, but who has over-reached, and revealed that she suffers from disrupted cortices. Ladies and gentlemen, Caitlin Moran:


Oh dear, didn’t you realise he’d be useless? Didn’t you notice all the political commentators explaining exactly what would happen? Because even the turgid drips at your beloved Guardian warned you about this dud candidate, and I’ve been hearing since Brexit that cool and rational left-liberal geniuses always take stock of expert opinion.

But what did Caitlin think about Corbyn’s past record?


Oh, I see. Even leaving aside specifics though (such as Corbyn supporting terrorists), it’s striking that anyone could be that unaware of how electorally toxic the hard-left is. Until you remember that we’re dealing with a celebrity. Only by lacking completely in self-awareness, and having an absurdly trumped up sense of self-importance, could anyone be so oblivious to the majority opinion in the real world.

How about a considerably more famous writer, JK Rowling? She must be on the ball, she wrote some books about a wizard. And she has an incredible platform: 10.3 million people who don’t particularly like reading follow her on Twitter. So how did she reach out and engage with their vibrant diversity of opinions?

Well, she’s spent several months spouting incessantly about what an almighty disaster Brexit is, and how we’re all doomed, and Trump is going to harvest our organs, and the abyss is nice and warm so let’s just throw ourselves into it now, and on and on, tweet after godforsaken, egomaniacal tweet. She was so distraught after the referendum that she clattered unfortunately into over-wrought sixth former mode, and used the F-word:


What she forgot, like Moran, is that most of us inhabit reality, and it’s quite nice down here. The sky isn’t falling in. We speak to people who have different opinions. We might—gasp—be rather fond of Brexit, or at the very least know someone who is, and not think they’re a deplorable racist.

Rowling can no longer perceive day-to-day life beyond her elitist cocoon, inside which the only acceptable behaviour is to worship blindly at the altar of liberal progressivism. Crucially, she forgot that a lot of people are naturally optimistic about the future. And even if they’re not, they have no problem honouring the democratic wishes of their compatriots, and can do so with magnanimity. And that whatever happens, they’d prefer to roll up their sleeves and make a go of things, rather than congealing into a sticky blob of po-faced, self-righteous morbidity.

Scratch the surface, glimpse the void underneath, and the same pathology applies to them all. To Gary Lineker, Lily Allen, and any comedian the BBC can countenance hiring. To Damon Albarn, Michael Sheen, and Emma Kennedy. To Patrick Stewart, Billy Bragg, and the rest of the spitting, spoiled, self-obsessed cry babies. Wherever they once came from, none of them has the faintest idea how ordinary people live now.

Rather than becoming annoyed, perhaps we should pity them instead. The sad truth is that even with their obscene bank balances, monumental arrogance, and grotesque egos, there’s nothing they can do to reverse the damage done to their own minds: their critical faculties have been permanently turned to mush by life in the spotlight.

But please, celebrities, don’t take this to heart. Don’t ever change. Carry on with your snide, sniffy, ignorant, intolerant, head in the sand, high and mighty, laughable, la la land, bubble-wrapped bullshit.

Because as you can see from recent results, it’s working perfectly.

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