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Fears for rightwing blogger as ‘humourless’ gag not understood at all by dour lefties

04.24.09 | 1 Comment

Fears were growing for the safety of famous Tory blogger and economic illiterate Iain Dale, following what many consider to have been a brave but possibly foolhardy attack on leftwing bloggers’ lack of a sense of humour.

Early reports suggested that, far from seeing the funny side of this splendid post, many leftie bloggers had reacted with typical bad grace and absolutely no sense of fun at all, and were threatening revenge in a manner totally at odds with the art of  knowing irony.

A statement from dour leftie bloggers at the famously po-faced Bickerstaffe Record said simply:

‘What?  No sense of humour?  What a git! If he comes round Bickerstaffe accusing us of not doing any good jokes, we’ll punch his f******g lights out.’

Paul Cotterill, the famously sullen editor of the Bickerstaffe Record, also reacted strongly to being accused of lacking any sense of human warmth whatsovever:

‘How dare he! I clearly remember telling a joke in 2004, a very good one about the way the relationship between Marx and Engels developed really quite – wait for it – dialectically! 

Many of the comrades at the branch meeting at which I told it had to be carried helpless from the room, and a number of them weren’t even dead.’

Cotterill’s position as total pain-in-the-arse dullard had already been confirmed in a long and excruciatingly dull post about his plans for CRAP publishing house, a new deadly serious and socially dangerous venture aimed at indoctrinating young people into a lifetime of tedious meetings held to talk about surplus value, without an ounce of fun to be had, ever.

Similar stupidly angry and humour-free reaction came from Bob Piper, the eptitome of the hard-faced middle-aged dour leftwing councillor all right-thinking trolls have come to revile.  Piper stated, without any hint of irony:

 ‘I’m all in favour of fundamental and irreversible shift in the balance of power and wealth in favour of working people and their families, and I really can’t see that there’s anything funny about that. 

Dale needs to be careful suggesting that the need for dramatic social change should ever be treated in any way other than with the utmost solemnity. 

If he came down Sandwell preaching this kind of dinner party bonhomie crap, we’d punch his f******g lights out.’

Hopi Sen, who famously is absolutely intransigent in his refusal to allow any humorous inference taken from his slightly unusual name, and who also writes quite long posts with facts and details, joined the typically self-righteous outrage being expressed by leftie bloggers across the country:

‘This is a moral outrage, and I am outraged with the outrage of it all. I am exceedingly humorous, and I have written at length on this very matter, quoting ample fact and figures in support of my thesis.

If Dale doesn’t watch his lip, I’ll run the 26 and a quarter miles right over to his house in a time of around 3 hours 35 minutes, whereupon I’ll punch his f******g lights out, WHILE talking to him about the merits of Quantiative Easing,  Orwell Prize joint contender fraternal dealings notwithstanding.’

Meanwhile, Labour MP blogger Tom Harris, thought by many jolly amusing troll commenters at the superbly ironically titled ‘Iain Dale’s Blog’  to be the only funny person on ‘the Left’, despite him being about as rightwing as some of them, concurred with Dale:

‘Oh yes, these lefties are so angry and bitter all the time.  Exploitation this, and deep social inequity that.  That’s all they’re ever on about.  They really ought to watch more Doctor Who or some other Saturday night TV, then write about it in a pleasant and unthreatening manner the next day to show how normal they really are, and how their avowed desire for serious social change is just a bit of gentle joke.  Will they never learn?’

Dale’s whereabouts and personal safety were unknown as we went to press.  Some analysts think he might be taking refuge, with rightwing colleagues,  from the braying hordes of  socialist bloggers, intent on making him either listen to their one joke, about the time Marx went round Engels’ house for a cup of tea, or face the consequences. 

One possible place of safety may be with his friend Mayor Johnson, who probably owns a big house with electric gates somewhere, and who continues to combine screwing up the running of London with being a jolly card with foppish hair and only insults people deeply from an impish sense of mischief.

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