The Martyrdom of a Modern Hero, by George Galloway

by philapilus


The thought of that beautiful smile being wiped off his face is more than we lowly commoners can bear…

Bravely stood the proud and noble man; erect, full of purpose, indefatigable as a Persian dictator, though with the moral complexion of a Saint, astride the London streets like a mighty colossus, blessing common people, as was his wont.

But even his great mind was unable to foresee what was coming; a savage beating at the hands of a maniac.

You will be distraught, I know, to hear that this brutally set-upon genius was not some remote ivory-tower intellectual, but one who is familiar to you, who walks humbly amongst you, bestowing wisdom, advice and aid to all.

Yes my friends, it was I.

I leave that statement to stand alone, knowing the enormity of the shock it will unleash. “Not George!” your hearts cry. Or “Not Mr Galloway!”, for those amongst you with a sense of humility and propriety.

Now, I am never one to put myself forward, but the assault upon my person by this brawler – a dastardly enemy of freedom, worse than Osama bin Laden, Bush, or even Christopher Hitchens – brings to mind the sufferings of the saints.

Those heroes of old are remembered for their violent martyrdom at the hands of vicious men. And my slightly bruised – yet still handsome – face, marks me as one of their number. Perhaps even the greatest martyr, for I must live on with my suffering, putting witch-hazel on the bump for several more days.

Maybe even three or four.

Yet Judases amongst you claim my forthright views made me a target, even – hush their libellous mouths! – that my calling for a complete boycott of Israel was a “typically self-serving publicity stunt, inappropriately stirring up community conflict”.

There are even those – surprisingly many, in fact – who have said “Free speech should never be suppressed, but then; Galloway is a massive arse, a belligerent, egotistical wanker, who gets off at the sound of his own voice.”

“Scandal! Blasphemy!” the faithful rightly cry on my behalf, and I thank you friends.

That’s what you’re thinking, friends. Well, I assume so. No one has actually said it yet. Indeed, you must all still be in shock, for I note not one ‘With Sympathy’ or ‘Get Well Soon’ card has arrived.

No doubt you are in mourning, and the tributes will flood in soon enough. I do urge you to do it soon though, friends, whilst I have some down-time, as I am expecting hundreds of thousands of tributes and letters pretty much any moment now. And please don’t be shy; I will deign to read your offerings. So really, do send them. I have rented a barn specially, to store them in.

Any time now is fine.

Your teacher, idol, and Leader of the Free World in-waiting





%d bloggers like this: