Now this post may end up seeming extremely hypocritical, because if you think my purple prose tonight (and every other night for that matter) is utter pants, then it'll feel like the pot calling the kettle black.
But the fact of the matter is that the quality of "journalism" in the Press & Journal (Depressing Journal) and Evening Express (Evening Depress), the local Aberdeen papers is appalling. This essentially dates back to a vicious industrial dispute many years ago when many top notch journos left and were replaced by anyone with a word processor.
The Evening Express relies on the latest gypsy encampment, oops I mean ethnic traveling fraternity base camp to be set up so they can stir up the locals, the breathtaking incompetence of the City Council and the Trump Resort pantomime to fill their pages.
The Press and Journal is obsessed with anything Sir Ian Wood does, even if it is concreting the only green space in the city centre to sate his ego, erm I mean create a lasting legacy.
Both have a complete and utter determination to run down the City's football club and in particular it's supporters. I can't think of any other local papers who would continuously criticise their captive audience the way this shower do. It was the AGM of Aberdeen Football Club last night and the rag took the opportunity to have a go at the fans who turned up because they didn't have a go at the board, alluding to an old myth about Don's fans being so quiet you can hear sweet papers being rustled. Hilarious.
Aberdeen fans are targeted from all sides. The Central Belt "newspapers" (the Sun and Record) attack us at every opportunity, printing complete lies about "vile" songs we've never sung, missiles we've never thrown and attacks on ex-Rangers players that never happened. In a normal City the local paper would be the organ in which you could depend to fight back on these issues. Up here, they fall in line with their backward, retarded cousins from the West Coast, who are only interested in deflecting any potential problems the Old Firm get themselves into with their obsession with a battle in Ireland over 300 years ago.
Most of these fuckwits who call themselves journalists can barely string a sentence together. Thank god for the interweb, where various blogs and chat rooms, stir lively debate. Of course there are still plenty zoomers about, but sifting through you can find intelligent individuals asking the pertinent questions without any agenda.
A quick shout out at this point to one of my loyal readers who has a weekly column in a local Aberdeenshire town paper, whose prose is positively Burns like compared to the kind of drivel you'll find in the sports pages of the City papers.
Music tonight, back to the 80s again with a cracking one hit wonder for you - "Let My People Go" by the Rainmakers. Vocals are an acquired taste, infectious shouty chorus.
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