Zelo Street and that hugely embarrassing public apology

One of the saddest trolls on the block is unquestionably Paul Fenton from Crewe, who goes by the name of ‘Tim’ Fenton for some peculiar reason. Maybe using both names gives him someone to talk to?

If you end up getting smeared on the pages of Tim/Paul’s tawdry blog, Zelo Street, then you’re doing something right. Most conservatives, all the newspapers apart from The Guardian and The New European, most sound journalists and anyone more successful than Tim/Paul gets it in the neck on dear old Zelo Street … so basically everyone… Tim/Paul has lots of hours (and betters) to kill.

Not the kind of publication or individual one could sue for defamation because, frankly, no court outside of Lilliput would take the Fentons sufficiently seriously. Getting ‘taken down’ by Tim/Paul is like getting blown a kiss by a raving, wee-reeking vagrant

As one former Government Minister commented, “I don’t care what that old troll writes. I feel that sorry for him.”

^{Whiffy indeed, Mr Dublin. Septuagenarian Marxist lives there.}

In the recent past, Zelo Street HQ (the house in the photograph above gives one a flavour) has been known to have attracted some celebrated visitors to its door. Tommy Robinson – not someone at whose altar we worship on this centre right publication – did not have to sign in at reception as no reception was to be found, just an outside khazi stacked full of choo-choo manuals and H&E specials. Robinson only had to sidestep the overturned shopping trolley, the rotting dead rat and the used spotty hankies to make it to the front door before Tim/Paul called plod. Robinson was on a ‘Troll Watch’ project – hunting down his trolls.

Facts do not come easily to Tim/Paul. In fact, it is only fair to relate that the Zelo Street blog is replete with bollocks

Corbynite #ITWASASCAM Tim/Paul was once forced into the most cringeworthy public apology ever for one of a myriad of factual inaccuracies – not that many noticed as they were likely too busy ironing their pants to give a monkey’s.

Tim/Paul was obliged to issue his public apology after publishing what he thought was an outstanding scoop – identifying a celebrated investigative tabloid journalist, who Tim/Paul thought had been pestering (he had been exposing) his dodgy stalker chums, a scoutmaster and a librarian, Ooh er.

Alas, no Pulitzer was forthcoming…

^{(A Photo of The Late Rupert Hamer)}

For instead of outing the elusive investigative journalist, Tim/Paul erred gravely.

In homage to Cadwalladrism, Tim/Paul went and published a photo of Rupert Hamer, the Defence Correspondent of the Sunday Mirror. And unfortunately, Rupert had been killed in an explosion in Southern Afghanistan some years earlier while bravely covering the war there. Tim/Paul’s apology came from the sheer guilt at the distress he had caused to Mr Hamer’s family, which must still eat at what little remains of Tim/Paul’s soul.

After Oliver Kamm’s wonderful obituary, after the obligatory 72 hours, for the now dead charlatan John Pilger, one wonders how Tim/Paul shall be remembered posthumously? Will this well-worn anorak merely slip away into the nothingness like the appalling flatulence years of Co-op microwave meals for one have left him with – a nobody ’til his last guff? Or will a conservative have the last laugh and enliven a spotters’ wake?

Alas, judging by Fenton’s comments to himself on Zelo Street, the flatulence-nobody option would appear the most likely…

How very sad.

Byline: Peter Fiddler