By Ben Pensant.
‘Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?’
The above question was posed by drug-addled punk legend Johnny Rotter as The Clash performed their shambolic final gig in 1977. Weeks later the snotty singer was found dead in a grotty Chelsea bedsit after OD’ing on heroin and choking on his own dog chain. A more undignified demise you’d struggle to find this side of the SAS shooting Osama Ben Laden in cold blood without allowing the sweet-toothed radical his requested final meal of two Penguins and a cup of orange pop.
But as grim as Johnny’s squalid death was, I can’t be the only progressive who spent all week recalling his chilling final words. Because mere days after Brexit-bashing academic Victoria Batman had charmed us with her fannytastic displays of anti-democratic rage it emerged that the naked prof had been playing us all along. And it pains me to admit I was completely taken in by her wicked ways and perky nipples.
So yes, Johnny. You bet your spikey ginger arse I feel cheated.
For those with shite memories, last week I published a hugely popular blog about Novaru Media’s Ashley Sarkar, in which I suggested Dr. Victoria would be an ideal guest for Ash’s hypothetical chat show. As strong independent women I felt the two would compliment each other, as well as providing the added intersectional thrill of seeing everyone’s favourite sex-obsessed commie sitting inches away from a pair of bare titties. Indeed, it seemed Victoria was a perfect fit as she ticked every single box on the modern left check sheet. Sadly, my dream of seeing her tick Ash’s box would soon be well and truly over.
Because it turned out Dr. Victoria was a double-agent who had infiltrated the Good People like a wolf in sheep’s fanny-fur. As disturbing details of her past emerged it became apparent that the Doc had well and truly pulled the pubes over our eyes. Far from being one of us, it is now clear she is very much one them. That’s right: Victoria is a Tory. And she hates feminists too.
In news that sent shockwaves through social media, it was revealed this week that prior to giving passionate pro-EU speeches with her mott out, Victoria had penned bile-filled articles for alt-right hate-sheets. Only last year she was given a platform in Unheard to stick the boot into progressives who enjoy telling other women what they can and can’t do with their bodies, even defending the ungrateful, uneducated Grid Girls who think because they’re fully grown adults with shiny hair and pretty faces they can do what the hell they like.
“Modern feminism is looking more and more like a group of ‘clever’ women ganging up to pull the rug out from under the feet of other women” she raged, ignoring the fact that it’s not a rug they’re trying to pull from under these pea-brained dolts, it’s the pervy men shoving cameras up their skirts who they’re unaware of as they’re too busy painting their nails and blowing kisses at rapists in crash helmets.
She went on to smear modern feminism as “unfair, elitist and hypocritical”, deride the perfectly sane idea that denying women the opportunity to parade around in heels is for their own good, and even arrogantly tried to claim victimhood by detailing her own run-in with middle-class women who knew better than her what was good for her. In short, a few years back Little Miss Droppy-Drawers gave a lecture while dressed in a sheer black bodysuit. Days later the video of Victoria’s seminar was removed from the internet after a couple of attendees rightly complained that Victoria was objectifying herself.
That’s right, a handful of brave feminists did the sisterly thing to shield Victoria from the torrent of abuse and harassment that would inevitably come her way after alt-right trolls found out there was a video of an academic dressed like Eartha Kitt plastered all over the internet. And how does she thank them? She slags them off on online. Unbelievable.
Needless to say, at no point did she apologise for offending these poor middle-class women by forcing them to gaze at the sexually threatening black outfit she shoved down their throats. No, she mocked them instead, putting their lives at risk of assault from 5chan Incels determined to show these ungrateful bitches what’s what.
But if you thought her ideas about feminism were abhorrent, wait until you hear what she thinks of the welfare state. Indeed, the title of her 2015 CrapX piece – ‘Why Subsidising Other People’s Kids Must Have Limits’ – speaks volumes about her sinister motives.
“The bloated welfare state represents a threat to individual drive and prosperity” she raged, firmly putting the needs of the privileged few who benefit from capitalism before those of the marginalised many who exercise their right not to work if they don’t want to.
“If the state excessively tops up your earnings and subsidises the cost of your children, it risks destroying the inbuilt drive to provide”. Maybe. But if the state force-feeds you cans of Monster Munch it risks destroying the inbuilt drive to eat salad, find a job and save your cross-eyed children from the EX-Boxes Tory hawks planted in your six-bedroom council house.
She then went on to sketch a misty-eyed portrait of the bygone era in which poor people were forced to remain childless: “Unless you wanted to condemn your offspring to a life of poverty, you had little choice but to postpone marriage and sexual activity until you and your partner had saved enough or achieved the necessary regular earnings”. Sounds fantastic, Prof. Why not just dress the proles in red gowns and white bonnets and ban them from looking at each other until they’re earning as much as the rosy-cheeked Oxbridge intern who washes Theresa May’s fanny pads?
Clearly mindful of how well nods to Nazi witch-doctor Josef Mangala go down in right-wing circles, she then offered a jaw dropping justification for banning poor people from having kids: (Granted, she never actually said poor people should be banned from having kids but she really didn’t need to.)
“With reproduction tied to economic circumstances, excessive population growth was avoided and a high-waged and highly-skilled economy was the result”. It’s nice to know that during this halcyon era of economic boom the Tory establishment were grateful to us for not having kids, cutting the number of job applicants by half and allowing Tarquin and Clarissa to get to the front of the queue. Oh and don’t worry about who will look after your brats while you’re out doing the jobs we missed out on because we didn’t have a chauffeur to ferry us to the interview. There’ll always be a destitute childless wretch willing to take a dead-end job as a nanny. We might not be rich enough to have our own children but you’re happy to pay us a pittance to look after yours.
“Sacrifice and restraint yields rewards. As the saying goes, there is little gain without pain”. Great point Vic, though it seems you’ve written ‘pain’ instead of ‘some poor sod having his knackers cut off by the government just in case he pups his missus after one too many Babychams during Ant & Dec’s House Party‘.
She then insulted Labour voters everywhere by bastardising welfare state pioneer Edna Beveridge to serve her neoliberal narrative – “Even he would surely agree we have gone too far” – before signing off with a healthy dollop of old-fashioned Tory nationalism: “We are damaging the very thing that made the West best in the first place”. So that’s internalised misogyny, promotion of eugenics and rampant xenophobia. Congratulations Doc, you get to take the match ball home!
That so many of us were fooled by this evil woman just shows how far they’ll go to spread their poison, as well as how easy it is for good people to become victims of their own decency. Thankfully the twat is out of the bag and we can finally see Victoria for what she is. Indeed, in contrast to how she appeared last week when lighting up social media with her arse-cheeks, remove her naked campaigning from the equation and Ms Victoria seems pretty sensible. Which is why she must be stopped.
So I’d like to take this opportunity to apologise from the bottom of my heart for saying nice things about this foul exhibitionist. And I’ll continue apologising, vowing to Do Better and scrubbing my man-balls with sandpaper if need be. Nobody’s perfect, not even leftists, but what separates us from the fash’ is our ability to admit when we’re wrong. And while many of my liberal contemporaries have taken the equally brave step of deleting their words of support and pretending Dr. Victoria never existed, I elected to admit my infallibility with grace and contrition.
Having said that, it’s not entirely out fault we fell for her deception: deceiving people is what Tories do. And she wore her mask well, cloaking her true intentions in progressive pro-EU rhetoric. Why would anyone expect a woman who actively supports a neoliberal capitalist institution to be a neoliberal capitalist?
So the time has come to bid farewell to this duplicitous hag. I will never forgive myself for both lavishing her with praise and spending a whole moment imagining what it would be like to write ‘Fuck Brexit!’ all over her top bollocks. I can delete the complimentary tweets but I’ll never delete the memory of those bone-shaking vinegar strokes.
In the meantime, let’s forget her barber’s floor and remember her for what she truly is. She may have fooled us into thinking she was the most beautiful woman on earth but in our minds she will always look like this:
Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some supportive tweets to write, because news has just come through that another brave lady has decided to fight Brexit by removing her bra on the telly. No idea who this Rachel Johnston woman is but she’s posh, she’s educated, and I can tell by looking at her there are zero right-wing skeletons in her knickers.
Get ’em off!