While we're privileged enough to have many newspapers, they can still suck

So my intention was to have every entry with a fun little sketch I pulled together that is... somewhat related to the post in hand, but then GIMP happened. Or GIMP 2. Whatever. I hate it. I swear Adobe made it to encourage you to put down money for Photoshop.

Anyway.

I hate The Sun.

No, not the giant radioactive orb. The Sun. And The Daily Mail. And The Daily Mirror. Hell, actually, pretty much every newspaper in Britain. I know I should be grateful that we have an abundance of nationally syndicated newspapers, but I long, I long, for the day when the internet finally kills them. Incidentally, you may notice the oddity of The Daily Mirror up there with the more traditional, ah, 'right wing'? Frothing mad insane? Anyway, I hate it for being so poor at criticism that it actually make we sympathise with the David Cameron. I mean, there's legitimate criticism, of which I have a truck load of for the man, and The Daily Mirror decides it's better off criticising by the median of cruelty and cockdickishness.

But I'm getting besides the point. I wanted to criticise The Sun after all. For a blissful month, our papers have been on best behaviour. The Olympics and the Paralympics have been a mercy, preventing them from shouting their normal obscenities. Black muslim immigrant? Clearly that dirty bastard should go back to... no, wait, that's Mo Farah, he's brilliant and an inspiration to us all! Hey look, a disabled person? That filthy lazy scrounging... no wait, that's the brave Ellie Simmonds who's overcame incredible odds to be here! They've been forced to treat their usual punching bags as actual human beings and it's been brilliant. And because so many have won medals they've had to fill page after page going over the winners that they haven't had room for the usual garbage. I once shared a thought from Charlie Brooker to my friends that it must be awkward going home after a long day working for these papers knowing that all you've done all day is make the world a worse place when I was countered that for all my anger; there is a market for it, that no matter my rage, people clearly want to buy it, and all these papers do is reflect a general mood or ideas. So for this last month I guess I could take it as not as the papers getting better but perhaps us getting better.

It was too good to last. A little while ago (and I'm in two minds whether to display the front-page here but then I couldn't find it after ten minutes so meh) Cheryl Cole and Will.i.am had a car accident. I know this because of the front page photo taken just after they crashed, streaked in blood, distressed and shocked at the wheel. I mean... no. Just no. Don't do that. That's morally repugnant, you assholes. I don't know what's worse: The fact this was the front page, the fact that after witnessing this crash a bunch of photographer's first instinct was not to help but to take pictures, the fact that they actually was a buyer for the pictures, or the fact  that in retrospect, seeing that The Sun brought and published the photo's-on it's front page, mind-made those crapsicle photgraphers decision to not help and take those pictures completely logical and right. Rrrargh. And it's not the worst they've done! Last October on the very day they had it, their front page was the bloodied and very dead body of Gadaffi, looking down at from news shelves everywhere! That's what I wanted to see! That's what children wanted to see! And oh my god The Sun made me do a 'think of the children' complaint!

I think I prefer it when they are just shite. Like today. Front page news? And Murray had a pee before winning the US Open. Well done. Quality journalism there. Then again, it's not like they could big up the opening up of the Hillsborough disaster files. Ship sailed on that one.

I'm not going into the culture or celebrity photos. The classic 'look how drunk they are' shots, which bore me. For starters, who cares? Secondly, even my Facebook photos show that photos taken when you're not expecting them so you're mid-blink make you look hella drunk. And I don't drink. It's the tabloid's equivalent to the internet's funny animal pictures. Then there's the worse nip slip/underwear/accidental nudity bullshit. I. Er. What. Ergh. How do I put this? Simply? Clearly? Fine. Here we go.

That is not cool guys.

Not cool.

In the least.

In the words or Tim Minchin, 'that is not your bum to exploit.'

But here's the great bit; they'll never go away. They to have websites. The papers may die, but they're on the internet now. They've won. They're immortal.

Now I depressed myself and as a non-drinker, there's no alcohol in the apartment.

But there's Listerine. God old Listerine. It's minty burning will dull the pain.