I hate it. It is a detestable extension of the actual newspaper, edited by the detestable Paul Dacre and owned by the hateful tax dodging Rothermere family.
So why am I drawn to reading it? Why don't I just ignore it and get on with my life? Most of it is celebrity bullshit 'news', or immigration scare-mongering mixed in with a portion of aircraft near misses, dire weather warnings or anti-BBC bollocks. It's crap. Utter crap. Bullshit bollocks crap.
I should know better, but yet every day there I am trolling through it.
I have a theory. It's like a moth drawn to the flame. it's the draw of putting your finger near the electricity point. It's the whole desire to be outraged. It's almost as if The Mail Online is a guaranteed spark to light the fire of rage that burns but sometimes doesn't surface.
It doesn't surface because we're continually bombarded with bad news, news designed to scare us, to worry us and now we're so used to it we subconsciously switch off to it all. By seeking out the rubbish, the bullshit, the spark of rage flickers and explodes. it's what keep us going. The Grumpy's will not accept blindly that everything is bad. We will acknowledge the bad and then seek out the rubbish in order to ridicule it and show it up for stupidity contained within it.
Oooh, that feels good. Something that keeps the outrage going, something I can constantly spit my bile at. Well done The Mail Online.
Later Mugs, GJ
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