IT’S exactly 12 months since the recently elected Batley and Spen MP Tracy Brabin breezed into Roberto’s restaurant in Batley market place, only for the smile to be wiped off her face by the sight of The Press gang tucking into their Christmas meal.
Ms Brabin was sore about our two-page examination of her ‘exclusive’ internet interview with the Indian Muslim Welfare Society, in which she’d described herself as a ‘friend of Palestine’ and called for more cash for English lessons for Muslim women, among other things.
I’d been sarcastically calling her ‘R Trace’ after her repeated affectations about being ‘a local lass’ and as a popular soap actress I suspect she wasn’t used to such scrutiny or disrespect.
She sat stony faced, so I walked across to break the ice and told her it’s nothing personal, that’s how this newspaper rolls.
And it really isn’t personal – I’d love to get along all happy-clappy like, with all our elected members of all parties. But I refuse to do this job with my eyes and ears closed.
Since then, I think even Ms Brabin would admit she’s had acres of good publicity in our pages – and that won’t change. She’s the local MP.
But it is still time for a very unMerry Christmas.
Peter Ward, the Labour party cretin who lives mostly under a social media toadstool, is the bloke who thought it funny to threaten bomb scares against innocent caterers, as a means of halting the local Conservative Association dinner at the National Coal Mining Museum.
I find Ward a poisonous hypocrite. He spent long enough trying to crawl up my backside, briefing against Labour colleagues and doing his damnedest to drop his former boss MP Mike Wood in the brown and dirty, once they fell out.
In recent years he’s been busier bad-mouthing me and this newspaper along with his far left social media troll pals. Water, duck, back, etc.
But here’s the thing. If that ‘bomb scare’ idiot had been a member of UKIP or any activist vaguely to the right of the political mainstream, their feet wouldn’t have touched the floor. We’d be talking jail time.
Laughing matter then, R Trace? I think not.
So take a look at the photo printed here, with the MP beaming in the foreground.
The bloke back right in a tan jacket, trying to get his ‘me-me!’ mush in the selfie, is Ward. It was taken just hours after our ‘bomb’ exposé, at which Labour served up a glib “Peter’s sorry” slap on the wrist.
A word in your ear, R Trace – how exactly did you get your job? That’s right, a social bottom-feeder, a nobody with a nasty, ideological world view – a bit like Peter Ward – blew a fuse and put three bullets in your friend Jo before finishing the job with a dagger frenzy.
Not laughing that off, are we? And no, I’m not trying to draw an exaggerated comparison between the two, either.
But the fanatics of left and right are harmless – until they’re not, like Tommy Mair. The point is, there’s nothing funny or trivial about bomb scares being “a bit of fun”.
We’ll bear your ‘oops-a-daisy’ attitude in mind when you next come over all righteously indignant about some imagined offence or other.
STILL on the subject of R Trace – although that’s perhaps not so appropriate a name now, because her part-time home in this parish is in lovely Hartshead.
Nowt available in Mount Pleasant or Purlwell?
I’d have thought she’d be more at home there, given the election campaigning wearing a Muslim headscarf.
And just look at this week’s latest tweet – “Have a Merry Muslim Christmas”.
It’s a strange turn of phrase. Is she Muslim? Is it aimed at Muslims? Is she their spokeswoman wishing us all a Merry Christmas?
I didn’t see any ‘Merry Christian, Hindu, Buddhist or Pagan Christmas’ wishes from her. Will we see ‘A Very Happy Christian Eid’ when it rolls around? Good luck with that, petal.
Or is it as sinister as it sounds? I know that Shahid Malik promised they’d be running the place in no time, but now his brethren are having Christmas off us as well? The cheeky sods!
I’m assuming Ms Brabin’s social media outpouring was issued before the former world champion (Muslim) boxer Amir Khan received death threats for tweeting a photo of his family Christmas tree.
Certainly the four would-be South Yorkshire terrorists arrested this week, reputedly eyeing an attack on the Leeds Christmas markets, had their particular idea of joining in the festivities – a bit like Bradford’s Tanveer Ahmed, who drove to Glasgow to stab to death Ahmadi Muslim shopkeeper Asad Shah, who had “insulted the prophet” by wishing his customers and neighbours a merry Christmas.
I’m not sure who this is supposed to infuriate most – but I can tell her it worked and if she wants to know how ill feeling can turn tragically violent, she might consider again how she got the job.
Still, Tracy Brabin doesn’t need to worry along the lines of Amir Khan or Asad Shah in local terms at least – she’s just a simple kuffar woman who bows and scrapes and dances to the tune of ‘the community’.
They’ve got you worked out – and I think, pretty much, so have the rest of us.
I DON’T bother with the BBC’s Sports Personality of the Year – it’s all a bit pointless, and is made ridiculous when the winner Mo Farah can’t be bothered making a two-hour trip to receive the award.
Somali ‘Brit’ Mo has lived in the USA for years being coached by a dodgy Cuban and while none of that should stick to him, I find it mad that one of the greatest ever cyclists, Kenyan ‘Brit’ Chris Froome should be disgraced by having too many puffs of his asthma inhaler.
For crying out loud. When I was younger I needed a blast of mine just to change gears. For an asthmatic – and Froome is – to achieve what he has this year, winning the Tours de France and Spain in rapid succession, is phenomenal. An extra whiff of Ventolin? The world’s going mad.
I did hear that Andy Murray was suffering from depression, but that no doctor could tell the difference, so they left him out anyway. Hot favourite Anthony Joshua probably had the vote rigged against him because the Beeb found out he voted Leave or suchlike...
IT’S COMING to something when a Deputy Prime Minister is thrown under a bus to save his boss’s blushes for a few more weeks, and all due to a police vendetta.
Damian Green probably was a sleazeball who ogled cheeky ladies on his PC. Join most of the internet-enabled work, pal, yours truly included (although I do own all the computers so maybe that doesn’t count – let’s call it journalistic research, eh?)
No-one’s even had to prove that Green looked at the totty – only trip him up fibbing that the police hadn’t informed him of it, which was all very historically nuanced. But no, Theresa’s dying her latest EU death, so off the ledge you jump matey.
Meanwhile we learn that police forces are routinely failing to disclose evidence in rape cases to defence lawyers – probably with a nod and a wink from the zealots of the Crown Prosecution Service – rendering the entire judicial system suspect.
Makes you proud to be British, living in the home of democracy, doesn’t it?
Happy Christmas folks.