Bodger: “Who the fupp are?”

Chompsky: “The strange boys from the Village.”

Bodger: “Stinking rotters.”

Chompsky: “They’ve a girl with them.”

Bodger: “Leave Julien’s face for pity‘s sake.”

Almost whimsically and perhaps in closet guilt at the apparent libertarianism of its no doubt mostly junior advertising exec readership (it promotes, nay ogles, Julien Mercille, conspiracy theorist extraordinaire, Maître Mitty on a Monday. Worse still – and alien to the “get that state out of my life readership, this is a leftie. “Beef cake”, ” boffin”, “egghead”, “the man they all want to marry”: all bouffant hair and sallow skin, his clean-cut just-bathed Canadian earnestness, an embodiment of dissent for Broadsheet’s hirsute, lycra-clad, hashtag revolutionaries.

Ow.

Noms de Plume such as “FluffyBiscuits”, “Spaghetti Hoops” (sic) and “Bodger”: words synonymous with childhood innocence…

A kick in the plumes?

….a Freudian nod perhaps to the infantilism of Broadsheet, where ‘Animal Farm’ meets Old McDonald and Broadsheet ends up confusing our furry friends with the Irish electorate?

*nuzzle*

Broadsheet and its commentariat are – dare I say it – profoundly Catholic in tone, devoutly intolerant of any counterweight to the individualistic, hipster agenda. Its commenters and posters drown in a pool of contradictions, one minute decrying “Je suis Charlie”, the next putting the boot into “Ich bin Hitler” merchants. And what’s going on with over 20 posts about the Fuehrer?

Reich so.

To meet the standards imposed by Broadsheet editorially, the poster requires just a talent to irritate the commenter merely the ability to circumnavigate a crude filter. Though there are suspicions that one John Ryan posts under more than one Nom and some of the commenters seem suspiciously on-message.

Literally preposterous.

And there’s more (link below) so much more.

It’s a bloodbath.

The stakes couldn’t be lower.

Confessions Of A Broadsheet Addict (Julia Tuohy, Village)