[John Woodhouse, fluff piecer at the Staffordshire Sentinel]
For the third time in almost as many months, Wales and Welsh people have seen themselves on the receiving end of xenophobic crap from a BBC affiliated journo. God, it’s getting boring.
This most recent attack was probably the most pathetic of all trolling attempts because the incompetent writer, a person who’s intellectually challenged, without humour or a far reaching vocabulary (or indeed a clever turn of phrase) decided to take every predictable piece of clichéd stereotyping and ‘sheepshagging’ sentiment and bundle it all together in a pathetic and ill conceived piece of lame 70’s sitcom disappointment. I daresay he’d defend this drivel as tongue in cheek and jocular, but for that to have worked, his article would have needed to have been witty and amusing. It wasn’t – he failed to deliver and besides, he’s 50 years behind the times. Poor John.
He set the scene early on by describing his thong wearing chat with an ice cream seller on Rhyl beach. Poor John probably found this Benny Hill style throwback funny, but I didn’t. I read it and thought – what the hell is an adult man doing wearing a thong on a family beach, and why is he parading it in a place where children queue up for a treat?’ John clearly has no respect for healthy boundaries and as his piece progressed, so he confirmed it.
What he succeeded in delivering was a piece of spiteful, nasty, cowardly ‘make me feel better than the next man’ rubbish. What he also succeeded in giving us was a peek at his ingrained racism. How sad to witness an insecure and bitter little man who’s scared to show his real colours and so directs his chipped shoulders at Wales instead. Frightened of the race relations board, I suppose, and believing, as do so many of his xenophobic counterparts, that Wales is still an acceptable target for his insecurities. Isn’t it lame to see a man in his 40’s (50’s?), a man who is partly funded by our licence fee, try to kid himself that attacking Welsh people is still an acceptable activity for closet racists such as himself. John’s one of those ignoramuses who consider Welsh bashing to be the last acceptable bigotry, I suppose. John also knows, as do we, that if he wrote a similar style article about black, Moslem, Jewish people, his head would be on the proverbial block. Hurrah then!!! He saved the best of his racism for little old Wales! How he flatters us!
With overly abundant references to sheep, Glamorgan, our language, shepherds, singing, poverty, burning houses and with silly little stabs at suggesting that we’re all so small minded and insular, we never visit anywhere outside of our own country….oh, sorry, principality…. he used every trick in his weak armoury to portray us as some nation of backward hicks. Yap, yap, yap.
The fact that he attempted to hide his petty bigotry behind a cack handed comedic exterior fooled me none, and neither should it fool you. This is reminiscent of the unsubtle tactic employed by people like Nigel Farage with his arm punching, jokey, ‘hey, it’s all for lolz’nonsense but this is what they do. They hide, they sneak up on you, they pretend that it’s all good fun but they have a serious and destructive message lurking beneath that shallow veneer. John is a bigot who hates Wales, even though he comes here to flash his arse at children, and who wants the Welsh language, our language, eliminated not just on the odd road sign on his side on the border but also on all signs an ours. John is one of those sorry little types who wants to eliminate Wales. Poor ridiculous racist John.
Many people, myself included, were angered/disgusted/disappointed/insert own adjective here at his piece of lazy writing but then I read it again this morning and in amongst my frustration I found something else – a pity. Yes, I feel a little bit sorry for John Woodhouse, the writer, because, apart from being a humourless dick with an eye on the Hopkins or Clarkson prize, he was actually inspired to pen that piece of drivel because a road sign had offended his sensibilities. What????? I kid you not! John Woodhouse has such small horizons, he sweated, stewed and got all hot under the grubby collar because a bilingual sign had found its way across the border. His fragile peace of mind was disturbed by a piece of metal. Come on, you have to feel sorry for a person with such a sensitive mindset, don’t you!!?!??? Poor sod. Can you imagine getting that worked up over something so innocuous? No, nor me.
HERE IT IS – THE OFFENDING SIGN. THE CAUSE OF MANY A SLEEPLESS NIGHT FOR POOR JOHN. I DON’T KNOW HOW HE’LL EVER FEEL SAFE TO GET INTO A CAR AGAIN…
Is John a mystery to you? I’m sad to acknowledge that he isn’t one to me. Seen his type way too often by this stage in the game and his motivations are as clear as day. He’s English, he’s entitled, he’s racist, he wants us all to be like, sound like, speak like him. Little people often do things like this. Makes them feel like bigger people, see….
I’m painfully aware of this one fact too – that John and people like him will gleefully interpret my response as being indicative of the fact that Welsh people are prickly and have no sense of humour. We are almost obliged to sit back and allow ourselves to be mocked because to say ‘hold up, that’s out of order’ makes us appear precious. This is the self same style of English domination that we in Wales have been obliged to tolerate for years, and it’s one which too many Welsh people now accept without question. This is wrong – we don’t need to allow ourselves to be anybody’s feelgood punchbags, and neither should we keep taking this crap on the chin for fear of appearing controversial. It is not controversial to stand up for and defend ourselves, our nation or our language. Right now when London is talking about reclaiming devolved powers, when the media either ignores us or mocks us, when Welsh Labour representatives are actively promoting English assimilation, I’d say that as proud and self respecting Welsh people, we have a moral duty to defend ourselves and all that we hold dear. If this is interpreted as anal, small price to pay. Those same people who regard this as a sense of humour failing are the self same ones who take delight in colouring people to believe that without England, we are nothing. If those people want to regard me as anal, I say whaaaaaaaaaaat? I abhor this dictatorial little Britnat mentality, and I despise people like John Woodhouse.
Pathetic Little John irritated me last night but with Christmas approaching and with this being the season of goodwill to all men, I’m going to work on understanding his words and try to walk a little way in his shoes. If a road sign can work him into such a bitter frenzy, just imagine the mental devastation that he must feel when he sees a woman in a hijab walking down Stoke high street or, God forbid, he comes into contact with a Jewish person. His blood pressure must be sky high, poor thing. He must live his life in a state of perpetual racist rage, must poor John Woodhouse. Imagine being such a bitter, twisted, sad little racist and having nothing better than a roadsign as your focus. Poor poor John. It hurts me to conceive of a mind so small and broken. It’s sad, don’t you think?
So let’s take a moment to think of sad John Woodhouse this Christmas, then when that moment is taken, let’s get back to enjoying our family and friends laughingly knowing that as we do, that white racist coward is probably inwardly seething at the fact that he’s being required to celebrate the birth of a baby who was neither English or white and who, if he was alive today, would respect our langauge as much as he does any other. Jesus has billions of followers; John Woodhouse only has 1000. We win!
And on Boxing day, when you take a drive, check out the road signs here in Wales, recognise their bilinguality and if you have a can of spray paint conveniently stashed in your boot, no matter how tempting it might be, leave it there. Do not take it out and eliminate the English words because that would make you just as sad as poor, poor, ridiculous John.
Welsh first, English second – let’s enjoy living in that bilingual world, Wales!
Oh, poor sad parochial John Woodhouse. 😦