Category: Competition

An old English custom

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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.

If you’re sick of my stuff…..

Write some yourself! summer-flat-cap-grey-prince-of-wales-pop-up-jpg

But it has to be said, there’s so much postable news these days, innit?

With the virtual certainty that our next PM will be a Tory lady, second only to our beloved Maggie, we can look forward to pragmatic gubmint, a phenomenon sadly lacking for many years. (Boris hums, ‘Can’t buy me Gove, yeah; everybody tells me so…’)

Meanwhile the Bremainers are still sulking, talking about second votes, about chaos, about Scotland, Ireland and Gibraltar. (Boris did say, ‘What part of Bleave don’t they understand?.)

But the ever-present Welsh are celebrating with a symbolic win over Brussels Belgium, adding fuel to the flames of the English team’s funeral pyre. Their victory only goes to show: England have sweet FA.

And while I’m here, I should mention that Andy’s best chance this year is if his arch opponent loses the third set today to a Yank. Come on, the special relationship.

Nothing else in today’s news, sorry. Oh yes, it’s a peaky blinder. Stylish, huh?

The old one-two

Troubles rarely come singly, especially for prima donnas like the England football team that got what they deserved yesterday.

May I point out that more than a few of the Chosen will return to their clubs to discover the world has changed since they left for France?

At Chelsea, Italy’s impassioned boss, Conte, takes charge. At Man City, the legendary Guardiola arrives and at Man United, Mourinho pitches up. If some of the Nice failures think Iceland were tough to face, they ain’t seen nuffin yet. The fact is that any quality the Prem League boasts is down to foreign players; the locals just take the benefits – for now.

And in case anybody is feeling smug about Wales, they are going to get a lesson in quality from Belgium very soon. Gareth cannot save them.

It will be an interesting few days, nay months!

An epoch defined

No, not tomorrow’s vote, Monday’s meeting in Nice between the rich kids of England and another, less feted team. Yes, Iceland.

It will be a win-win for the Davids, whatever the result. But for England it will not be a breeze; rather storm-force gales from the North.

Defeat should be unimagineable – but it isn’t, because as usual England are dithering, unable to stick to a plan worthy of their famous individuals.

Will Woy finally deliver? Who knows?

Good in parts

Our beloved country is a curate’s egg. (Consult google if in doubt.)

We have a parliamentary democracy (good?) that regularly disappoints (bad?). Be honest, when did we have a competent PM unsullied by dishonest proclamations?

More importantly, we have sports teams that make inconsistent look unbeatable! Today Wales are the best, England are their usual inscrutable (and Scotland?). Come on, N Ireland!

Milk and sugar, Vicar?

 

Your fave toons

Not for the faint-hearted, the Grauniad reveals HM the Queen’s pop picks. Few surprises of course. And if One may do it, so may we, innit?

So I’ll start you off, just to cause a mild flutter of interest or disgust here.

Michelle, the Beatles, Rubber Soul.

Road to Hell, Chris Rhea.

Let’s dance, David Bowie.

…and almost every Buddy Holly and Billy Holliday number!

So now it’s your turn. Don’t be shy.

Putin put out

I couldn’t miss out on a headline like this, could I? Even though I refuse to watch or enter discussions about the much-feted Eurovision extravaganza, which, allegedly Vlad himself dictated Mother Russia must win at any cost. Heads will roll, it is reported, now that a Ukrainian song about genocide in the Crimea (in English) beat the Russian entry. The votes were rigged by the pesky Western organisers, of course. So what’s new? Apart from the Aussies wanting to horn in on the show too. Typical Eurononsense.