Tim Blair

Scan further down and read about an Australian paedophile.

Sounds like some right wing commentators I've come across.

You know the ones who refuse to admit that things are not going exactly according to plan. (Was there a post war plan?)

The same ones who don't seem to realise that an invasion of Iraq was going to piss off a few Iraqis who are not necessarily Saddam supporters.

How's Gilligan going to run a blog? Is the Professor going to weave him a pentium 3 out of coconut husks? And there will be the added distraction of Ginger waving her tits around, and the Skipper slapping him on the head with his cap constantly.
He'd be better off being rescued.

Yes, it does sound like some right wing commentators. Only, unlike left wing commentators, right wing commentators don't keep insisting that they are objective journalists.

The real Gilligan was always apologizing to the Skipper for various mishaps and buffooneries. Therefore, this blogger fellow cannot possibly be the real Gilligan. But then, where is the real Gilligan? He certainly hasn't been located by the Gilligan's-Island-inspector team from UNSCOM and UNMOVIC. My suspicion is that Gilligan never actually existed. Apparently, some nefarious anti-war lefty sexed up a blog to make us think that Gilligan really exists, thus seeking to advance their anti-war (no, wait, the war is over)..er..their anti-peace/anti-rebuilding agenda. Case closed, Lieutenant Dreyfus...

Gee, I hope Gilligan has evidence for his report of Iraqis looting incubators. Last time anyone accused Iraqis of doing that, the Loony Left went berserk.

well Jayson Blair isn't going to blog. It would require too much work on his part.

It's not that Jayson Blair couldn't blog, it's just that every time he'd ask a blogger to link to his site, he'd make up some new, ficticious URL.

-Vic

Interesting point Robert - I wonder if any consensus has emerged as to how serious the looting of Iraqi hospitals was...

Perhaps Gilligan can get a job as a houseboy for Mr. and Mrs. Howell? And in-between getting "Lovey" her third Mai Tai, or shuffling Mr. Howell about in the bamboo motorcar, he can scratch his brilliant scrivings about life on The Island on coconut shells and float them out to sea.

Most Iraqi hospitals with anything worth looting were probably Baathist-only preserves, and thus deserved any looting they got.

So, Tim, am I banned? If so, why?

Let's see. We're about 2 months into the post-war that happened probably even faster than the planners expected. Obviously (given the reports by the previously impeccably correct NPR, CNN, and BBC who were right every single time the talked about lousy plans for the war, quagmires, and Stalingrad-like defensive fighting) everything in Iraq is not yet perfect. Ipso facto, there couldn't have been any plans for post-war operations, even less than perfect ones. Q.E.D.

Darn those right-winger all to heck!! Will the suffering of the Iraqi people never end?

Hey Bon,
What’s that foul smelling red pus smeared all over your mouth?
Wait, it’s not red, it’s Khmer Rouge!
ps. No offence to the real Bon Scott.

That is an excellent post by David Steven. I'm old enough to remember a time when you used to write that well Tim.

I blame the addition of comments. Everything has become very lowbrow since their inclusion. How about you get rid of the comments? I, for one, wouldn't miss them.

Bon,

Clearly you aren't banned - yet. Our banning technology needs to be upgraded.

You're boring, Bon, and you fuck up what otherwise might be fun comment threads. You waste my time. You hide behind a false name and a fake e-mail address yet demand to know what I earn. You use the comments as your own personal miniblog because you don't have the guts to run your own site.

So ... you're banned.

Lovely little tanty Tim - nice to see how well you deal with criticism.

You can deal out the personal abuse, but can you take even a couple of difficult questions?

Nope.

YHBT.

HAND.

"How much do you earn" isn't a difficult question. It's a personal question.

Let's have some answers from you. How much do you earn, Bon? What is your real name? Where do you live?

Sorry Tim, not biting.

So you're complaining that things are too personal now?

Pot, kettle, black. How about your ongoing 'fuckwit' war with Tim Dunlop? Or your running beating gag at the expense of Robert Fisk?

Poor little baby.

C'mon, Bon. You're smarter than this. You have no right to know what Tim earns, and nobody really cares what Tim earns, aside from Tim.

Oh my god, I'm feeling so conflicted. I really want to think before I write, but I'm just so self-righteous. I know it's none of my busienss how much Tim earns, but as a loyal lefty, I'm used to having my hands in other peoples' pockets.

I promise - please don't ban me. Once I've done with the fake Bon Scott, I'll just go away.

Oh look, I've inspired someone. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery - or so they say.

Actually, I don't really care exactly how much they pay Timbo - the point I was trying to make is that the Bulletin gives him money for recycling old blog entries sans fact-checking. I find this amusing. (The 70c rate I quoted is, I'm told, the Bulletin's entry-level freelance rate, for those who are curious.)

It's funny watching Tim lose the plot, though. I thought I'd just about finished here - but on second thoughts I may hang around a little longer to watch the show...

So Tim, will you be a little less ready with the personal stuff now you now how it feels? Or are you prepared to suck it up and carry on? Come on Tim, we're here for blood.

Sorry, but some jerk using my identity keeps on making me sound like a fuckwit.

You're the fuckwit . . . .

No, you are . . . . er, I mean, I am.

My guess for Bon Scott is that he works for some shitty little rag that gets by on a federal grant, was christened Tarquin but changed his name by deed poll to Christophe, and works in an office in Haymarket (so that he can boost his ethnic credentials by boasting that he hangs out with Asians). He's 39, enrolled in a PhD program at UTS, and has published two chapters from his thesis - bubbling along for 8 years now - in an online journal for postgraduates. His wardrobe is black, he uses a walking stick, and shaves his head so nobody can pick the receding hairline. Resistance Bookshop-thin, he regales anyone who'll listen about the time he was caught up in the shooting when the army took back control of Thailand in February 1991. A professional victim for over twenty years, his greatest moment was getting arrested with Peter Garrett during an anti-nuclear protest. He's well travelled - particularly in Asia - but only visits places where he's fairly sure he'll be the only white person. He was one of the last ones out of the now defunct Communist Party of Australia - and still wears his CPA lapel pin on his black beret. He speaks bad Spanish due to his involvement with the latin American wing of that organisation, an involvement stemming from easy access to the teenage daughters of revolutionary exiles. He still has reasonable success with undergraduate radicals who listen to him read his philosophical poetry at parties in Glebe. They sleep with him a few times but drift away (usually to women). He is a part-time tutor at UTS and complains endlessly about the exploitation inherent in the 'system'. He doesn't drink alcohol ("too corporate, man"), but instead uses low-level hallucinogens to get him through his minimal human interactions.

It's only a guess.

Oooh, so prescient Bon Scotties. I guess you must really know me. Shit for brains.

Just a thought: I must really be getting to you people. Glad I stuck around. And no, Bon Scotties, not even close.

First I've got one Bon Scott making me sound like a fuckwit, then a second, and now someone making fun of this dead rock star's name!

Of course I drink alcohol - although after a certain vomiting incident, I've given up the beer. Red wine goes much better with the cheese.

E-mail me your real name, where you work, and how much your earn, and I'll tell you exactly how much The Bulletin pays me.

Tim, I've changed my mind. I don't really care how much you earn, as long as you pay your taxes and keep the public tit nice and full for me to feed from.

Can't we all just get along?

Bon Scotties' description of Bon Scott sounds remarkably like my Russian Literature & Society tutor at Melb Uni in 1986. The only difference is that this guy lived in a high rise housing commission flat because he had a right to access public housing, and a few years later, he ended up as a commentator on CNN, covering Rutskoi's attempted coup against Yeltsin.

Shit, I almost forgot how this guy absolutely and openly detested guys like Solzhenitzen (back to the gulag for you) and Gorbachev for ratting out on communism. I imagine Moscow a few years later would have been a real hoot, especially when Boris got the tanks to open fire on parliament.

I've heard that Bon works at the Big Issue.

Bon certainly has some big issues. Oh well, negative attention is probably better than no attention at all.