What good can possibly come of reacting to Jeremy Clarkson? It is his manifest purpose, his life’s work to rile the right-thinking, so that he can laugh at humourless libtards. It was all for this that he wrote in the Sun of his “cellular level” loathing for the Duchess of Sussex; trotted out a tired Game of Thrones cliche, fantasising about her being paraded naked down the street, while people hurled excrement at her; described her marital relationship as her hand in “her ginger glove puppet”.
He seemingly pinballed from one sexist, racist trope to another – the implication from his column being that Meghan is the manipulator, the voodoo priestess, the narcissist, the liar, the bewitcher, the polluter – for one purpose, which was to get people up in arms. Many public figures – from Carol Vorderman to Philip Pullman – took to social media to express their horror at these essentially violent fantasies.
