The Reverend H. Goatboy has died: Who?

"Sadly, Goatboy was never able to regale the Popbitch crowd with his story of Jimmy Savile - largely because of restraint ... imposed by those pesky libel laws." Politicalhackuk.

"[I] would like to pay tribute to a gossip legend and habitual resident of Popbitch.com, who died this week. The name Goatboy will mean little to most, but plenty to many. Suddenly, there is less in this world that makes us go 'arf'." Hugo Rifkind, The Times

Somebody big in the media died this week - and lachrymosity is rife. No, not the former Mirror and People editor Richard Stott. I mean, Alastair Campbell and a few other cunts besides, who gives a shit? He was just another lump of compromised tabloid cliche. No, I'm talking of another passing. That of The Reverend H Goatboy - mega-gossip sites Popbitch and Holy Moly are in mourning. No, I'd never heard of him either. So, let's see what the fuss is about.

"A Popbitch legend has passed to the great bin shouting contest in the sky," someone announces. I like Popbitch, can be too cute on furry animals, but it's fun and well written. Don't recall Rev Goatboy. An obit elsewhere says he was "larger than life" - click here. But this still doesn't explain who he was or what he did.

Holy Moly tells a story about one of Thatcher's cabinet ministers having sex with the 12-year-old son of an aristocrat. It is to be inferred from context that the Rev Goatboy supplied and wrote the story. In the second story, the same Tory high-up features in photos showing him messing around with young boys. Why is this politician not named? Arcati is mystified.

Holy Moly recounts: "On Monday we heard that Paul, a dear friend of Holy Moly!, and Popbitch too, had died in his sleep. Known to many simply as The Reverend Goatboy, he was, among many things, a wonderful raconteur, a true gentleman and always entertaining company. Like the consummate rock 'n' roller he was, the Reverend believed life was something best lived at 100mph and soundtracked by Motorhead. We will miss him."

Here's the important bit: "Even if you've only ever laughed once at the Holy Moly! mailout, we can guarantee it was one of Paul's stories that cracked that smile. Without Paul there would have never been a Holy Moly." Now I begin to understand ... Go here for more ... and his importance to Popbitch. Someone there recalls: "What an excellent chap - the night he rescued me from a whores' hostel in Leeds will always be a fond memory. He wouldn't want you to know but he was a soft bugger at heart, even if he DID drive a hairdresser's car... he'll be missed. jedibitch".

Lots of Goatboy postings here. But they could be in Aramaic for all the sense they make to me.

He was Paul Hadwen. More here. He died in his 50s - click here. He was cremated today at the Lawnswood Crematorium, Leeds, at 3.40pm. He liked his drugs. So do most journalists I know.

Not everyone loved him. On one messageboard I read this: "You know what else is evil - the internet. Therefore by using it we are effectively playing with the Devil’s tool! You should add the creator and inventor of this wicked tool, the self-styled Reverend Goatboy (currently in hiding in The North in the godless European state of United Kingdom) to your list ... Love and kisses to Georgie. x x". This is quite sexy.

Back to Popbitch: "Goatboy, aka Rev_Rickenbacker, aka Horace, remains the heart and soul of this community. Until this week, when we got the sad news of our friend's sudden death from pneumonia. We came to love this mischievous, shady, wickedly funny, warm-hearted internet legend. From extraordinary tales from his own life, to his strong political beliefs - anti-authority, anti-Thatcher, don't let the bastards get you down - to the most jaw-dropping pieces of gossip (including two scandalous stories about an 80s Conservative Cabinet Minister), tens of thousands of us got to know Goatboy." Read much much more at Popbitch.

Did he once cock-cunt Tara Palmer-Tompkinson? "After he left me disheveled and glowing, I realised the stories were true, he really is God's Gift to women!" she's quoted somewhere.

Hardly anyone met him yet they weep - "Is it strange to cry for someone you have never met outside the confines of a computer screen?", writes a blogger, eloquent on virtual bereavement. "The internet is a strange old place. Meeting people seems to matter little when you spend years reading each other’s thoughts on the most trivial of subjects." Read the piece - it's great.

He sounds like the net's Robin Hood, or the net's useful alternative Gatsby. I sense the big bang of a great legend; stories will be told of his derring-do; there will be exaggeration - essential to legend. I wonder if publishers are clued-up? SCOTT PACK, ARE YOU READING THIS? Richard Stott died rich from the media; Goatboy sounds like he died poor yet exercised a great deal of influence on the media.

Nope, never heard of him.

This could be relevant.