There’s been a considerable negative American reaction to another snot-nosed, whingeing Pom journalist injecting himself into the center of a domestic American Constitutional debate. In response to Piers Morgan’s on-line abuse of American’s Second Amendment rights, a White House petition calling for Morgan’s immediate deportation was created which has accumulated over 90,000 signatures in the course of a few days.

After Morgan bullied and abused the elderly and overly-well-mannered Larry Pratt on television, the more combative Ted Nugent got himself invited to appear on Morgan’s show, where he wound up inviting Piers Morgan to kiss his ass.

Morgan responded yesterday, threatening that, if we Americans failed to enact British-style gun confiscation and civilian disarmament, he might deport himself.

If you don’t change your gun laws to at least try to stop this relentless tidal wave of murderous carnage, then you don’t have to worry about deporting me.

Although I love the country as a second home and one that has treated me incredibly well, I would, as a concerned parent first – and latterly, of a one-year-old daughter who may attend an American elementary school like Sandy Hook in three years’ time – seriously consider deporting myself.

Let’s hope devotely that he does.

Who, by the way, is Piers Morgan?

Piers Morgan is a former British tabloid editor who was fired, and escorted out of his own paper’s building by security, in 2004 for publishing faked photographs showing British troops torturing Iraqi prisoners.

In the same period, Piers Morgan provoked the wrath of Top Gear’s colorful automotive critic Jeremy Clarkson by prying into Clarkson’s private life and insulting his wife.

Clarkson evidently responded by tipping a glass of water into Morgan’s lap during the last flight of the Concorde, and finally by punching him in the face three times during a British Press Awards dinner in 2004.

Although Wikipedia says the Clarkson-Morgan feud ended in 2006, Jeremy Clarkson has commented on the Piers Morgan affair on Twitter:

Jeremy Clarkson, of the British television program Top Gear, visited the United States back in 2006. He didn’t like a lot of the same things about this country that I don’t like.

Step out of the loop, do something unusual and you’ll encounter a wall of low-paid, low-intellect workers whose sole job is to prevent their bosses from being sued. As a result, you never hear anyone say: “Oh I’m sure it’ll be all right.” ...

You know the Stig. The all-white racing driver we use on Top Gear. Well, we were filming him walking through the Mojave desert when lo and behold a lorry full of soldiers rocked up and arrested him. He was unusual. He wasn’t fat. He must therefore be a Muslim.

It gets worse. I needed money to play a little blackjack in Vegas but because I was unable to provide the cashier with an American zip code he was unable to help. It’s the same story at the petrol pumps. Americans can punch their address into the key pad and replenish their tank. Europeans have to prove they’re not terrorists before being allowed to start pumping.

I seem to recall a television advertisement in which George W Bush himself urged us all to go over there for our holidays. But what’s the point when you can’t buy anything? Or do anything. Or walk across the desert in a white suit without being arrested.

The main problem I suspect is a complete lack of knowledge about the world. I asked people in the streets of Vegas to name two European countries. The very first woman I spoke to said: “Oh yes. What’s that one with kangaroos?”

Then you’ve got New Orleans, which, nearly a year after Katrina, is still utterly smashed and ruined. Now I’m sorry but insects can build shelter on their own. Birds can build nests without a state handout. So why are the people of Louisiana sitting around waiting for someone else to do the repairs? ...

Among the things I don’t like is the way everyone over 15 stone now moves about in a wheelchair. As a result, it takes half an hour to get through even the widest door. And I really don’t like the way that every small town looks exactly the same as every other small town. Palmdale in California and Biloxi in Mississippi are nigh on identical. They have the same horrible restaurants. The same mall. The same interstate drone. Live in either for more than a week and you’d be stabbing your own eyes with knitting needles.

But it’s the idiocracy that really gets me down. The constant coaxing you have to do to get anything done. “No” is the default setting whether you want to change lanes on a motorway or get a drink on a Sunday. It’s like trying to negotiate with a donkey. Once, I urged a cop in Pensacola, Florida, to use his common sense and let me load a van in the no loading zone, since the airport was shut and it would make no difference. “Sir,” he said, “you don’t need common sense when you’ve got laws.”

British TV program Top Gear’s Jeremy Clarkson decided that clay targets were too small and too boring.

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Hat tip to Henry Bernatonis.