Well here you may have unwittingly described the way Morrissey treats some women...
Yep, it's exactly that. Well done!
As for hatred, the husband of the victim of a terrorism wrote this: "you stole the life of an exceptional being, the love of my life, the mother of my son. But you won't get my hatred."
So you have to wonder how Morrissey manages to feel such anger. My guess is this: he's furious because the terrorist stole the show. It was Morrissey's day. He's feeling disrespected. Personally attacked. How dare they? And all his insecurities resurfaced and like a blind wounded hippopotamus, he charged. For Britain but most of all for himself.
It's useful to remember he probably doesn't even have neighbours who celebrate the Eid Festival a bit loudly, and that the impact of Muslims on his life must be next to zero, except of course when emirs jump the queue at Harrod's and get served before him, which, I admit, would make me want to get rid of them too.
Luckily, personally, I just go to Harrod's to admire the tiles, and I try to always see people as individuals even if sometimes, like hippos, I feel I'm being hunted down, that someone wants to finish me off, me and all that I stand for, there's a phantom menace in the air...
And then I take a deep breath and usually I realize it's just Morrissey singing.
.
