So Farewell Then, Julian Assange

OK, OK – he’s not actually been terminated with extreme predjudice just yet.

On Tuesday, when Mr Assange was remanded into custody, I joked with a colleague that he (Mr Assange, not my colleague) should beware of being any length of time at the top of staircases while in the care of Her Majesty and Her Majesty’s finest. Seems someone shared my (yes, sick and depraved) sense of humour, for on Wednesday I came acros this piece, courtesy of the twisted minds behind The Daily Mash. Somehow, I can’t seem to post links today – must be the workings of those cuddly hacktivists, Project Payback – so here’s the url. Cut’n’paste, people, cut’n’paste. (Obviously, supposing there still IS an internet by the end of today.)

Today, however, I’m rapidly coming to the realisation that this probably isn’t a joke at all. I cannot comment on Mr Assange’s state of mind and, arguably, if he hadn’t done the whole Wikileaks thing, then someone else would. Much of the information contained therein is – as London’s Evening Standard rightly pointed out – in same news category as ‘Small Earthquake in Chile, Not Many Dead’. Frankly, I’d be more surprised if diplomats, politicos, SPADs etc etc DIDN’T say and do these things.  And as for Prince Andrew – yes, he’s an inbred arse – tell me something I don’t know.

But, and oh dear for Mr Assange. He has irked the US. More to the point he has irked the Ghengis Khan de nos jours, Sarah Palin and her Teapots. On top of this, whether he wanted to or not, he has unleashed the crusty might of the hacktivists who, as we know, need (and needed) little excuse to show how technologically capable they are. (With their stupid names. Who, in their right mind, styles themselves ‘coldblood’? That’ll be a 34-year old man, called Kevin, living in Milton Keynes with his Mum, then.) Sadly, coldblood (Kevin) and his mates bigaxe (Barry) and deathquake (Alan) can actually do some real damage here. (Which, in the case of them destroying Twitter, would be No Bad Thing. In the case of them preventing the world doing business in a time of economic crisis – not so much.)

Someone’s going to have to do something. And if I was Someone, I’d start at the top. Of the stairs.

Of course, I’m only partly serious. But what odds that Mr Assange is still here by Christmas?

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