The Government have just moved forward with an old New Labour proposal to force upon those migrating for settlement to the UK, an examination of their competence in the English language. The Government have just moved forward with an old New Labour proposal to force upon those migrating for settlement to the UK, an examination of their competence in the English language. I’ve no doubt that unlike the previous Government, a Government which has on her hands the blood of both the Islamic and Orthodox Christian world—this Government have only the best of intentions in putting this examination forward. The apparent intention of this legislation is the noble goal of creating economic and social equality throughout society, by having no member of society deprived of the English tongue. The methods employed however are dark and devious, as this New Labour legislation seeks to compound the racialism inherent in EU membership.
‘You’re doing Ladies’ Day,’ snapped my news editor. ‘At the Grand National.’
It was 2003; I was a cub reporter with no more interest in sport or horses than in, well, origami, or Chinese medicine. But what the hell – it would make a change from chasing fire engines in Warrington
‘Do colour, hats, fashion,’ he said, wearily. ‘But for God’s sake, don’t do the bloody horses’
So, with his words ringing in my ears – and a dire warning not to emulate last year’s reporter by getting drunk and falling asleep on the job, I set off.
It was absolutely pissing down at Aintree. There was mud everywhere. But the place looked very grand, with an impressive array of white, Camelot style marquees.
So I resorted to my first shameless trick – nicking stuff. ‘You got anything interesting?’ I ventured to the other reporters. But I was met with stiff, icy glares; we were all jostling glumly for laptop space amid the chaos and the coffee cups. It was like a workaday version of Glastonbury.