Christian@decorativeartt
Well well well, Sneaky Fucking, Emily Maitlis.
People who live in glass houses, shouldn't throw stones.
How very revealing.
You, the crown jewel of smug, privately educated metropolitan chic, built an entire career on the delicious pretence of fearless, impartial journalism, only to out yourself as one of the most sneering, silkily venomous partisan voices ever to infest British broadcasting.
How fucking tragic.
Oh darling, let’s drag your rancid carcass through the sewer of your so-called career, shall we?
One must admire the grotesque artistry of a woman who can perch so elegantly in a BBC studio, delivering what she imagines are masterclasses in emotional grandstanding and laser-guided selective outrage, most notoriously that vicious 2020 Newsnight monologue where you openly declared “Dominic Cummings broke the rules, the country can see that and it’s shocked the government cannot,” sparking over 23,000 complaints and forcing the BBC to rule you had breached impartiality, and more recently when you cornered Marjorie Taylor Greene at Mar-a-Lago, smugly prodding her about “Jewish space lasers” only to get bluntly told to “fuck off” for your trouble.
This is, after all, the same champagne-socialist, sneering metropolitan leftist who has spent years openly loathing Brexit, patriotism, and anyone gauche enough to have voted Leave. You treated half the country with the sort of withering contempt usually reserved for a waiter who brought the wrong vintage. A rude, sneering woman who clearly despises England and was never much of a lady, just a vicious professional scold in expensive shoes.
You didn’t report the news, Emily. You auditioned for the role of its self-appointed moral executioner. When Rupert Lowe, one of England’s finest gentlemen and truest patriots, dared to drag into the light the systematic rape, torture, drugging, and trafficking of hundreds of thousands of Britain’s own daughters by grooming gangs, you branded him a racist for the unforgivable crime of noticing. While he tried to expose the industrial-scale horror, you sat there downplaying it like a minor scheduling inconvenience, deflecting with cherry-picked statistics (“there are ten times as many white suspects!”) and reaching for the smear button with the frantic desperation of a crackhead chasing her next fix.
How very noble. How very BBC.
Bless your heart.
You eventually slunk out of the BBC under an avalanche of impartiality complaints, only to rebrand at LBC and the New Statesman, where the last polite restraints were gleefully incinerated in a bonfire of leftist virtue. There you peddle the same anti-British, hyper-metropolitan dogma with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer wrapped in a rainbow flag. The mask was never really there. Just a carefully applied layer of foundation over a seething ideological sneer that could curdle milk at fifty paces.
You absolute, rancid establishment whore of a woman. The British people have had more than enough of your poisonous, traitorous carcass. So do be a dear and slither back into whatever pathetic little sewer the BBC finally had the good sense to flush your toxic arse down.
Your time is over, Emily. The curtain has fallen, the lights are dead, and all that remains is the fading stench of your smug hypocrisy hanging in an empty studio that no one misses.
Whatever next?
Britain First. No Surrender. 🦁🇬🇧