dark beige

By Julie Burchill



In the past few weeks middle class Britain has yet again showed us all its disgusting true colours as every Tristan and Henrietta from Eastbourne to Edinburgh has joined in the chorus of typically small minded snobbery aimed at the honest, hard working Matthews family, and the Dewsbury neighbourhood they hail from.



As you may not realise, as I don't normally like to talk about it, I am 100% in every way a genuine chav (Cor blimey, guvnor), and so when I hear these mung-bean scoffing Guardian readers sneering at this family for nothing more than being *shock* on the dole and *shock again* behind a plot to falsely imprison their own daughter to raise money from worried members of the public, I feel sick.

When I grew up near a council estate in Brighton, among real, hard working honest people, who wouldn't know a focaccia bread from a "fuck at you" insult, everyone was kidnapping their own children for ransom - it was just what you did if you couldn't afford a colour TV. I remember my dad coming back from an 18-hour shift down the factory, and after wolfing down his tea (not dinner, only middle class people have dinner), he would often falsely kidnap me or my brother Mark and then knock round the neighbours asking for a handout.

He was a real man, my dad, as happy with a fist to the face as a kiss to the head, and it was this volatile, near psycopathic energy that made him such a special man, worth ten of any "lawyer", "doctor" or "university lecturer".



Craig Meehan seems like a similarly special man,with a cheeky grin and great sense of fun, yet all the London media can focus on is the paedophilic images on his computer. The hypocrisy of these Islington fascists, mock-choking on their humus in disgust then going home to be whipped by their rentboys is sickening - and anyway, who hasn't got a few dodgy images on their laptop?

But its the vilification of Karen that really makes me sick - so what if she's had five kids by six men? (That can't be right -Ed) Ok, six kids by five men. If it's alright for Ulrika Johnsson, it's alright for anyone. And yeah, so she likes to get about, but who doesn't? A beautiful woman like that is bound to get attention. My mum used to chuck us pies and chips inbetween fresh bouts of lovemaking with many,many, many random unwashed men, and it never did me any harm.



As for sneering at the neighbours who merely rallied round and celebrated the little mite's dicovery by throwing the unused "Have you seen Shannon?" leaflets around the streets like so much pointless litter, and buying the 8-year-olds cans of lager, all I can say is, you obviously weren't at a VE day street party!

But does the Guardian report that?

This hounding of my proud working class culture makes me sick. It's a sign that the sneering nancy boys who write Popbitch have infected every level of modern life with their pseudo gay bile - including the judiciary.

How else can you account for the obscene convictions handed down to the so-called "killers" of Garry Newlove? This nosey, do-gooding home-owner (i.e. middle class) stuck his stupid oar in when these three young cherubs were merely acting a tiny bit aggressively outside his home. Naturally these red blooded boys told him what for, kicking hs head repeatedly "like a football". Well of course they did! Every working class boy loves football! And maybe if New Labour spent a little more on local sports facilities and a little less on opera and gay arts for the intelligentsia it would never have happened. So what if one of them was out on bail - why was he on bail in the first place?! (That's right - the middle classes)



As I sit here in the study of my million pound Hove mansion, it all makes me sick.

I'm working class. I am. I am.

I am!!!!!!