So the UK was ‘wrong’ to vote for Brexit – according to Obama.
Setting aside the philosophical question whether a majority of a country’s citizens can be ‘wrong’ in any meaningful sense, maybe the sanctimonious President could answer this:
Would the USA join any club which suborned its sovereignty to the club’s management?
Would even the Democrats agree to the club deciding on US immigration?
Would the US fancy Juncker more than Trump or Clinton as its figurehead?
No no no, as I thought. Obama wins the headlines with his judgement but loses all credibility.
I am waiting impatiently to see what the Donald says about Apple’s little problem with the EU’s ‘level playing field’. I anticipate words like ‘ungrateful’, ‘foreign’ and picked on’. Fun, ain’t it?
Le petit Nicolas schemes his way back to the top, despite his criminal cases. Will he be given another chance? Will it make any difference to France’s failing fortunes and Europe’s little local difficulties? Probably not, mes amis.
Rio 2016 is not the last word in organisation or commercial savvy – thank goodness! What I’m enjoying is a feeling that the local volunteers and the Olympians are in it together, win or lose. Perhaps the best example is the golf competition. Pooh-poohed by many of the famous pros as small beer, beneath their notice, OL golf has proved to be a crowd-puller, with the skills we all admire but none of the big-money shenanigans. In fact show-boating by the big names in sport has been absent from most of the events I have seen, both on and off the running track. Even the Yanks are subdued. But the performances in general are superb, with hundreds of new, young talents coming to the fore.
Jazz and I have a running duel about education which revolves around the value (or otherwise) of non-practical subjects. So perhaps a comment from Iolanthe is relevant? ‘I’ve a great respect for brains – I often wish I had some myself.’ Spoken by a 19thC member of the House of Lords, whose rôle in the burgeoning grammar schools debate in 2016 may prove critical.
Some of the meeja hacks are getting hot under their cyber collars about Cameron’s parting gestures to his loyal colleagues. A K or two and a few MBEs. For people who, remember, had to work unreasonably long hours in old buildings whenever Dave and his Mrs needed them. And what else can a departing grandee do these days? He can’t sequester half of Yorkshire or the plate from a couple of monasteries on their behalf. And I wonder what Angela and le petit Hollande can do when they step down? The English honours system is very convenient, full of traditional meaning and cheap to implement. No, I’m afraid it’s raw envy that drives the criticism, and a persistent ignorance of The English Way of politics: it’s about Devil take the Hindmost. And none the worse for that.
It’s a beech hedge, 70 yards long on our southern boundary. Can’t hold the electric trimmer at shoulder level for a couple of hours so it’s the shears! Do they make a battery job that doesn’t need recharging every half hour?
I’m not a gourmet but I have been known to toy with a few grenouilles and more frequently a dish of escargots, suitably lashed with garlic butter of course. And Backside reckons that’s a case of matter over mind, given my aversion to garden slugs.
But I was surprised to see only today that if your delicate skin requires pampering you can invest a mere twenty quid for 50 ml of snail salve, the mucus of more than a dishful of the critters, collected allegedly from the glass over which they have slimed their merry way.
Not for you? No, I quite understand, preferring a rub down with an oily rag.
First time in a pub: was 15, was smuggled in by older boys, had three vodkas and orange, was stretchered out.
Son’s first cup of coffee: I don’t drink the stuff and neither do the offspring, though my younger son decided to take the plunge into the unknown for experimental reasons. He said “JW Jnr’s first cup of coffee”. After much gurning and vomiting he said “JW Jnr’s last cup of coffee!”
First ever video recorder owned: Betamax!!!! The boffins at school (FEEG and all his gang) claimed it was the superior technological weapon in the VCR wars. Later, the hegemony of VHS was ended by DVD. In hindsight, maybe the makers of Betamax should have abbreviated their product: BTX.
First time ever I saw your face: First heard this on the underrated Clint Eastwood film, PlayMisty for Me, sung by Roberta Flack. Multitude of singers have covered this song. One of the best is the haunting version by Johnny Cash.
First blog ever written: Was on Bebo ( who remembers Bebo?). It was a strange tale of me in the waiting room at the doctor’s, sitting beside some famous figures. I asked Darth Vader if his sore throat was getting better. As debuts go, it was a precocious start. It’s been downhill ever since.
Anybody out there got any unusual firsts (or seconds) they’d like to share. Keep it clean, guys (and MrsO).
Boadicea's Chariot 
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