A brief history of The Dark Lord, Piers Morgan; one of the most unpopular "Journalists" working in the UK (which is really saying something). Jeremy Clarkson punched him in the face once.
A long, long time ago in the far off land of 1994 is where our story begins. Before this time our hero was nothing but a snotty, upper class twat basket with only a degree in Journalism from the University of Abso-fucking-lutely Nowhere. Working small-time reporting jobs for media giants such as the Streatham and Tooting News and South London News.
It was not until 1994 when he was picked up and brought to the worlds attention by then editor of The Sun Kelvin MacKenzie. In 2008 after 14 years on the run Kelvin MacKenzie was finally apprehended and charged with crimes against humanity. He pleaded guilty during his trial and was instantly sentenced to flaying by pencil sharpner, the worst punishment in British law reserved only for perpertrators of the most heinous crimes and the French. His skinless corpse is left for all to see hanging from the BBC tower by his ball sack to serve as a warning.
Piers was offered the editor position for The Sun's celebrity gossip column, 'Bizarre', in which he either did exceedingly well or pathetically badly because this lasted for a matter of months. But in his short tenure as a celebrity correspondant/scum o' the earth he managed to start spinning the wheels for a reputation as an invasive, underhanded snake with absolutely no respect for others privacy or basic human rights. These qualities, when combined with his general air of self-appointed superiority have led me to deduce that Piers Morgan is a Goa'uld.
Thanks to his influence as a two thousand year old embodiment of evil he caught the eye of Rupert Murdoch (also a Goa'uld) who possibly against his better judgement, decided to offer the rookie journalist the position of serior editor for The News of The World, Murdoch's flagship sunday newspaper in the UK. Any attempts at capturing Murdoch so he may answer for his crimes have been fruitless. There are rumours that in august 2009 Gordon Brown green lit a Royal Marines operation to inflitrate Murdoch's Fortress Of Doom and slay the dragon in his keep. Sadly there's no conclusive evidence for any such operation or it's outcome if it did indeed exist. I'll just say that The News of The World ran a story that month claiming an inordinate amount of Hercules transport planes went down in Afghanistan, and they only seemed to be carrying Royal Marines. Coincidence, or conspiracy? I leave that up to you.
Now Piers used this opportunity as senior editor of a major media outlet to further his plans of pissing off and alientating every single celebrity in Britain. He claimed that because celebrities use the media as a vehicle for purporting their own careers then, in return, the media deserves full-access to their personal lives. While I can see the logic in this, it came from the mind of Piers Morgan and thus it is an evil attempt at controlling my thoughts, so I shall not dwell on this any longer. His grasp is powerful and his fingers are long.
After spending a year or so digging through Judi Dench's bins Piers one day up and decided to leave Murdoch behind, probably believing the aging System Lord was slowing him down. Piers managed to time his exit perfectly as he had somehow managed to impress the folks at the Daily Mirror newspaper with his semi-psychotic journalistic methods and lack of public relation skills. Naturally they offered him the senior editor position, which he took without hesitation or a look back. It was here that he would make his name.
In 1996 it was Euro Cup time, and in the UK this is kind of a big thing. Imagine the Superbowl and the World Series all rolled into one and you're sort of getting there. We take it quite seriously as a nation, especially when we've been lined up to play Germany. So when this happened Piers was oblidged to cover the story, or risk not selling a single paper for the rest of the year. But as you know this was Piers Morgan so it was obvious from the word go that he'd fuck it up, I wouldn't have brought it up otherwise. "Achtung! Surrender" was on the front page the Mirror the day of the match. Anyone with even a passing knowledge of European politics during the 20th century might be able to piece together what followed. Shitstorm just doesn't quite sum it up and he was forced to apologise to Germany, the UK and FIFA on international television amidst death threats from all over the continent. But this was just the start of his fall from grace.
We all understand the buying and selling of shares, right? It's what our economies are based on. You know, that weird thing where men in suits shout into phones and fling themselves out of windows? Apparantly theres a great way to make a fortune with it if you happen to own one of the biggest newspapers in Europe. Imagine you are running a story in a few days that a company, lets say Viglen, is going to be a safe bet. Now imagine you have Â£20'000 in the bank just collecting dust with it's piddly little 1.5% interest rate, crying out for some real investement. Well in 2000 Piers Morgan found himself in this very position! Unfortunately for him he's Piers Morgan, and thus he is shit at almost everything, including crime. He got caught playing the stock market and suddenly found himself the subject of an investigation. Fortunately for him he's Piers Morgan, and thus is an expert at weasling his way out of nearly any situation. (Notice I said nearly.) He was found to be in breach of financial journalism's sacred code of conduct but for reasons unknown he managed to keep his job. The fact he blamed the two columnists that wrote for his financial section may have helped. They lost their jobs. Oh and during their trial, it turned out Piers hadn't invested Â£20'000 in Viglin all along! He'd actualy invested Â£67'000 under his wifes name.
So a few years passed, Piers made more monumental fuck-ups along the way and pretty much drove the Daily Mirror into the ground. By 2004, it was the last straw. Silly ol' Piers went and authorised the publication of photos fresh from the war in Iraq, which seemed to show British Troops abusing and mistreating Iraqi POWs. Unfortunately for him he's Piers Morgan, and the photos turned out to be fake and he wasn't going to be able to get around this one. He was fired the paper had to actually run stories on their front pages for about a week offering their most sincere apologies and making lame excuses. It was pretty pathetic.
So Piers found himself out on the streets, exchanging sexual gratification for tea and living out of a horse box. Or he would have if he'd been anyone else. Fortunately for him he's Piers Morgan and was rich as sin from his years of celebrity bullying, fraud and playing the stock market. Fucker.
I've pretty much covered anything that your average American might not have known about the shit-breathing fuckwit. I'm only covering this bit because it was pretty much the greatest moment of my life (yes, my life is that bland. Thanks for your concern).
Remember I repeatedly said that Piers made a bit of a reputation for harassing celebrities like ebola? Well one of the celebrities he picked out for special treatement was Jeremy Clarkson!
What? Never heard of him? Ugh...
Well Clarkson is a fellow journalist who has a column in The Sun (Piers' old rivals) and is a presenter on the motoring show Top Gear. Starting in the early 00's Piers decided for reasons known only to himself that Clarkson must be up to no good somewhere and goddamnit he was going to find it! His 'investigations' started to bank towards stalking the hapless Yorkshireman, taking pictures of him everywhere he went, waiting outside his house etc. Unsurprisingly this started to piss Clarkson off no end.
This led to Clarkson making personal jibes about Piers in his column and on his show, which served only to piss Piers off more. This snowballed on and on until Piers hit the jackpot he'd been waiting for! He'd managed to get some incriminating snaps of Clarkson macking on his BBC producer, Elaine Bedell. Oh the scandal! Without further ado, he published them and got Clarkson into a bit of bother at home.
Clarkson was furious, as any of us would have been. Fortunately for him he's Jeremy Clarkson and happened to be attending the British Press Awards, along with that cheeky scamp Piers Morgan! So what did he do? Did he confront the invasive little shit and give him a piece of his mind? Not quite. Rather than talk it out Clarkson slowly walked over to Piers and cracked him straight in the face, then he calmly left.
Okay so it's not quite 'raped to death by grizzly bears on PCP' as Piers Morgan actually deserves, but you take the small victories where you can...