While Britain continues to wait for a sign (however small) of arrests following the Elm House paedophile brothel enquiry (the same one that Boris Johnson sees as “really going rather well”) more than 30 people have been arrested as part of an investigation into a major systemic child abuse scandal in Northern Ireland.
The investigation follows a review of cases of young people missing from the care system over the past 18 months. It shows up yet again how, having been f**ked up the arse by the child ‘care’ system, kids do a runner and then get f**ked up the arse by paedophile rings picking up the systemic crumbs. Later, the kids escape again, turn to the church for succour, and get f**ked up the arse by priests. Being a kid either in or out of care these days is very much an adult-rated movie experience.
Health Minister Edwin Poots and Justice Minister David Ford are due to attend a Stormont debate early next week, but Poots has in the meantime issued a statement which is a classic of spin-speak. It includes the usual references to ‘sexual exploitation as a priority’, ‘developing and agreeing a multi-agency action plan to deal with the issue’, ‘robust action is being taken to both prevent children and young people being sexually exploited’, and of course the ever-present ‘deal effectively with those who perpetrate child sexual exploitation’. Up to but not including people who work for Sky, the care services, the police, MPs, powerful suppliers to government, and Royalty.
We should of course remember that being f**ked up the arse regularly by wearers of expensive shoes and antique watches is far from being the only reason care home kids do a runner. Some leave simply because they’re in care unjustly, others because they’re fed up of pc do-gooders talking down to them, and others still because they are, to be honest about this, bordering on feral. They don’t do a runner to go back home of course, because back home may well be where they got f**ked up the arse in the first place. I just find it unutterably depressing that if in 2013 a British infant is the victim of family dysfunctionality, the only viable future appears to be one in which people f**k one up the arse. The uniforms might change, but not much else.
It does make one wonder why Gary Glitter bothered to fly all the way to Thailand when there are such rich pickings here. But chiefly, I marvel at the gall of politicians who persist in affecting shock about it, especially those charged with actually doing something about it. The par excellence examples of this were Harriet Harman and Ed Balls between 2005 and 2010, but this now well-worn tradition extends all the way back to Leon Brittan, a man who was Home Secretary during the worst excesses of Elm House.
Mr Brittan appears these days to be in some form of retirement after a long and distinguished career of mislaying of essential dossiers, and sending or receiving diplomatic bag literature of a sexual rainbow nature. Remaining as he does commendably modest about this exploits, we should nevertheless all remain aware of the massive contribution that Leon has made to the culture of our Nation. David Cameron hired him as an exports consultant in late 2010. He was Nick Clegg’s first EU boss. Clegg’s Dad was one of his best friends. He was the man who shafted Heseltine during the Westland scandal.
Few others can boast such a full life, or indeed such a charmed one.