Category: The Dark Side

A royal dilemma?

The anniversary of Diana’s demise has prompted public outpourings of emotion across the meeja and (for me surprisingly) from her family. Once again the Windsors find themselves dragged into a world where emotions are worn proudly on the sleeve while they continue to demand privacy and special treatment whenever it suits them. The Princes themselves were certainly the victims of the misconceived funeral display – but should they continue to parade their grief? Was their family less revered while Margaret’s tribulations were more discreetly exposed?

Vive the difference

 

The recent cringe-worthy visit of the First Man to France demonstrated the qualities of Gallic behaviour. Larger than life, self-satisfied and fundamentally hypocritical. Excusez-moi? Did you say those adjectives describe their No. One Visitor? Oh, yes, I hadn’t noticed. By all accounts the French populace were less than impressed.

Meanwhile, back in the real world (London) his demands for a ‘better reception’ when he deigns to grace us with his ineffable presence, were met with a straightforward, ‘Well, you know the British press’. So he should not hold his presidential breathe.

Says it all really.

 

Tell me about it

On my last visit to the Green and Pleasant Land in May, I had lunch with three cousins whom I see frequently – all oldies like me. One of them volunteers, in between some winding-down work projects, at a local food bank and had just finished a shift when we met.

I asked him what he saw and felt about the charitable work and received the following reply: ‘Well, five youngish claimants turned up in a taxi together and many of the ‘destitute’ people are obviously chain-smokers and stand outside using their smart-phones. That’s how I feel.’

So my hackles are still descending – very slowly.

The ties have it

As a long-time tie-sporter, I invite you to spot every ‘tell’ revealed by the two bossmen’s neckwear.

The choice: Don’s says he’s the one. A faux-regimental or wannabe academic flourish? Vlad positively conservative.

The knot: A full Windsor each – the only way for any chief.

The length: Both afraid of a half-mast solution.

The tuck: Don letting it all hang out, Vlad avoiding any stray egg and soup.

The tie talk: Reticent smile vs. Brash bravado. Says it all.

Left Field

Our favourite pop-star, Jagger Corbyn, is playing into the hands of right-thinking voters. His appearance at Glasto with Messrs Depp, Beckham and Balls (and no doubt many other wannabe undertakers) proves that his ambition far exceeds his judgement. Surrounded by young socialists and some old enough to know better, he gave himself a pat on the back and acquired an image as bizarre as his hero Mick’s. Er one two three four! Yeah!

Why didn’t I think of that?

Victor Orban, PM of Hungary, wants secondary schools to be equipped with shooting  ranges – to nurture Olympic champions but also to instill patience and concentration – according that is to the Times.

What a wonderful idea! Forget boxing and the martial arts, let’s get military – and why not throw in a few knife-fighting skills too? Then the public school system will be able to make sure all the potential thugs and terrorists have a proper grounding in murder and can succeed in their chosen professions.

I’m surprised the grand old US of A didn’t think of it first (or did they?). It would make a perfect social fit. I can’t wait for Trump’s tweet.

 

Of frying pans and fires

Here and throughout the blogging world, spleens have been vented, feet stamped, cool lost and superlatives exhausted – at the gross incompetence and ineffable profligacy of a sitting government; and all to the accompaniment of the opposition’s sneering triumphalism laced with preposterous claims of competence and reliability.

Soon the fabled one week in politics will live up to its reputation and prove to be a long time since 8th June. The Queen’s Speech will be agreed by the warring Tories, the opposition will have their jolly bunfight in the House, the negotiations with Brussels will duly begin – and everybody will go away on their hols. Continue reading “Of frying pans and fires”