It seems to be true. She’s running (or perhaps sitting) in 2020. Pause for thought. Okay. Ron did it. Don did it. She can’t be less palatable than Billary, can she? As embarrassing as Trump? Or maybe by 2020 an AI robot will be a safer choice? Hmm.
It’s hard to look on the bright side during these dark, wet days; even if Kim the Jong-Un is on the hotline to the South again; and Don the Old ‘un seems to be in a downward spiral of self-destruction. There’s an unhealthy glut of Bliar stories in the meeja, suggesting he is still scheming to return to Labour politics. Please! Let Corbyn continue!
Down under – where 2018 arrived sooner (and more trouble has had a chance to appear), it’s hip hip but not hooray; at least if you are Our Andy or Almost-our Johanna. And in the Ashes series, the England hierarchy seems to have delegated decisions to the players – ‘No, I don’t need a nightwatchman,’ said Jonny; and promptly got out.
Back home, real people struggle to budget for train fares, petrol prices rise and cold spells make everyone feel low.
But hey! Ambrose at the DT says Britain will soon be great again, Europe will slide and the sun will shine on us all. So that’s alright innit.
I’ve mentioned before that the Danes are a precocious bunch, especially at this time of the year. Celebrations start on 23rd – known as ‘little Xmas Eve’ -and continue until after the noisy New Year bashes. Hence my bah-humbug picture.
But hey! (happy seasonal retort) Backside and I wish all you intrepid Charioteers the holidays you wish for – for yourselves and your families. Ding dong as merrily as you like, deck your halls and save a glass for poor old Santa!
And a Good Brexit in 2018!
My reader may not remember 1963, owing to age or wha’ever, but it was a year when the Tories had little local difficulties as potentially disastrous as their current turmoil. They also made prurient reading – often referred to as the Keeler affairs, with her famous beau, Cabinet Minister John Profumo and a Russian diplomat, Yevgeny Ivanov.
We were entertained by Christine Keeler’s fellow ‘escort’, Mandy Rice-Davies, immortalised by her comment in Court when confronted by a Defence Barrister: ”Well ‘e would say that, wouldn’t ‘e?”
The gubmint fell and Labour’s Harold Wilson became PM.
I think it would be fair to say that Britain has not always dealt with Ireland fairly or squarely. Think famine and the Troubles. But I have always wondered why the Protestant Sect in the north has been allowed to create endless mayhem when it has been obvious that the best solution would have been a united, independent Ireland. There are enough precedents around the world that would support the idea.
Of course it won’t happen but I’ve had anough of the tail wagging the dog over there. And now the Republic wants to impede progress with Brexit. Typical.
Our thoroughly modern royal house seems to be keeping up with the latest trends (may one say, at last?). Their Spare Scion, only likely to succeed if four others fail, has introduced novelties of Churchillian proportions by proposing marriage to a Yank and that’s not all. Dare one say a colourful choice?
But more significantly, the worldly-wise Windsors are alleged to be avoiding the Trump factor altogether by simply not inviting him to the nuptials. I mean, who would, under any circumstances? That’s what I call Realpolitik. He of course will claim to have better things to do, whenever it is. But won’t he be a tad hurt with such a stellar rejection? One hopes so. (That ‘One’ may or may not refer to Harry’s Grandmama.)
Even more important – what will the bride wear? Will the groom’s best mate be revealed well in advance so that dirt he can be royally dished, character-wise, in good time? These and so many other vital issues to consider and so little time. So good wishes from me.
And that’s only the boys, if Archbishop Welby has his Christmas wish. (Sorry to mention the C word in mid-November, but M & S started it.)
Carles Puigdemont. It’s a cracker, anagram-wise.
Let’s leave aside the bizarre concept of an elected European pollie seeking political asylum in Belgium – whose own cultural conflicts deserve serious attention!
CP offers us some marvellous phrases:
Is he RECOMPUTING DEALS? Does he come from the CAMPGROUND ELITES? Is Catalonia now an IMPREGNATED LOCUS? Is Madrid PROSECUTING LAMED ducks? Or are they all MODULATING CREEPS? Is there a MOULDERING ASPECT to all this? Is JP PERMEATING CLOUDS? Or is it a storm in a SMOLDERING TEACUP?
Have your own fun with it – the list is endless.
What is it, this month?
Well, it’s sex scandals of course, mainly tales of starlets from many constellations being abused and exploited. The hypocritical tut-tutting echoes around the lots (of everything) in Hollywood and the corridors of power in Westminster; fuelling the flames of feminism and sending whiffs of grapeshot among the moguls and mandarins. Continue reading “Flavour of the month”
It must be the proliferation of wannabe journalists that’s responsible for the ridiculous attention given to the American festival of Halloween – in shops and in the meeja. Because if nobody wrote about such rubbish, nobody else would find it interesting to participate in such childish games.