
In my years in London’s Fleet Street I never worked for Rupert Murdoch’s The Sun but had a friend who did and, when he presented his first story to his news editor, he read it and asked him what he thought it was. “Well, basically, it’s shit,” my friend explained.
“I know it’s shit but I want it made shittier,” the news editor exploded.
I often think of this little cameo and the news editor wandering around his newsroom exhorting his reporters to write more shit since it tells us a lot about the way the newspaper operates and the cynicism which drove it to become the biggest-selling in the world.
It was often said that no self-respecting haddock would want to find itself wrapped in The Sun yet I did often drink with its reporters in Fleet Street and found them a companionable bunch, never slow to get to the bar for their rounds and with at least two disgusting stories about everyone. They were little more than second-hand car salesmen really, enjoying good pay and huge fraudulent expenses with private lives that would have put a gang of alleycats to shame.
I did have a few run-ins with The Sun over the years, once over my then friend, the Labour leader, Neil Kinnock, with whom I had shared a house in university. I wrote a piece for The Independent about our college days which, unknown to me, was sold on to The Sun. They took the piece and carefully changed almost every line until it suited the anti-Kinnock line they were promoting at the time. It became a tissue of lies and, perhaps needless to say, Kinnock never spoke to me again.
The best thing you can ever do with any Sun reporter, if he comes poking around your door, is not to say one single word and keep that door firmly shut. Whatever they say, even it’s to tell you the time, is almost bound to be a lie.
Occasionally I am called to take part in a lunchtime discussion on BBC Radio Wales, usually when it’s something to do with the media. Recently I found myself on a panel with the London online editor of The Sun. When asked why his newspaper kept hounding celebrities about their sex lives he said they did so as a service to society, that the paper made them into better and more responsible people.
The show’s presenter Jason Mohammed asked me what I thought of that reply and, practically foaming at the mouth, I shouted, “Well there are only two words to describe that and they are ‘Complete bollocks’.”
I couldn’t then finish what I wanted to say because Jason cranked up his apology machine and drowned out all my other words saying how sorry he was about all this bad language. Even the online editor of The Sun started complaining about me using such language in front of him.
Well that’s the end of my career as a BBC pundit, I thought rather happily because it’s an occasional job I’ve worked hard to kill off for years. But minutes later a businessman got on the line and, before Jason could bleep him, shouted: “Tom Davies was absolutely right. What that man from The Sun said was complete bollocks.” Jason moaned and groaned and started cranking up his apology machine all over again.
An unusual thing happened to me the other day since I kept crying copiously during a football match. I know I’m in the absolute prime of my decrepitude but there was Newcastle playing Chelsea – neither of which I am particularly fond of – and I was sitting there blubbering like a baby because the fans kept chanting: “There’s only one Gary Speed.”
There is a lot of talk on Twitter and elsewhere that Gary Speed was gay and that he committed suicide because The Sun was pursuing him about some affair he was alleged to have been having. I don’t know if there is any truth in this but I do know that who a man wants to sleep with is entirely his own business, no matter what the online editor of The Sun might tell you.
But if The Sun was actually hounding this lovely, beautiful footballer to a premature grave, for whatever reason, then I can promise you that, if it does get out, all hell will break loose and every decent minded person in the land will rise up and march on the offices of this shitbag newspaper and destroy the dump with the flame and flood of their purest anger.
This paper has become the very cornerstone of a great dynasty of evil which is now ruling the minds and thoughts of almost everyone in this blighted world. With its routine lies, degradation of women on Page Three and merciless hounding of people merely because their faces appear on television, this newspaper is rotten to the core and all it truly deserves is to be consigned to an early and dishonourable grave.
gan Tom Davies – see my facebook page for more articles



NOW THAT all our “evening” newspapers have ceased to be such any more – they all prepare new and print their copies during the night before their publication date – is it about time they tried to catch up with the world ?




