If a normal week is a long time in politics, the week that’s just passed may one day be measured using geological core samples. What, with all the kerfuffle around British affairs, not to mention the serial atrocities across Europe and the sheer intrigue of the Turkish situation, even Kim Kardashian’s arse was relegated to a few meagre column inches in the back pages. But, enough about Kanye… It’s hard to keep up with each new day bringing another you’ll-never-believe-it-but moment. Being in journalism or politics right now is no job for the faint hearted, or weak kneed. Definitely a time for the youngsters to demonstrate that the energy and vigour of their youth is not merely wasted on them.
Author Archives: Alan Taylor-Shearer
If you chain a baby elephant with a barbed wire snare to a deeply driven stake it quickly learns that to try and resist its restraints brings pain. Soon it submits meekly and somewhat fearfully to its incarceration. The elephant grows but the stake remains the same; its hide thickens but it remembers the pain and never again attempts to escape as the mahout cruelly forces the giant beast to do its bidding. By full growth the elephant is restrained by little more than a toothpick in relative terms, but still it does as bid. Until the day it is pushed too far and, enraged, forgets its chains and goes on a rampage.
Well, Who’d’a thunk it? They say a week is a long time in politics and boy, what a week it’s been. Game of Thrones has nothing on the real thing. Okay it’s got blood and battle… and dragons… and a lot of nudity. But, apart from that… Anyway, Boris is out and some commentators are saying his political career is over. Gove, who has repeatedly denied Prime Ministerial ambition may be going the same way very soon – who would trust him after his little coup? So it’s lukewarm May versus hot new ticket Leadsom versus mister religious baggage, Stephen Crabb, who the papers are already trying to bury. Oh and the disgraced Liam Fox; not fancying his chances.
The Tory leadership contest(s) is down to the final pair, both women, which infuriates the progressives who, despite all their rhetoric and all-women shortlists, has yet to put a woman in charge of the UK government while the reactionary hooligans of the vicious ‘far-right’ are about to do it for a second time. The establishment is supporting the grey lady of Westminster – Major minor – Theresa May because, well, because. And much of the media are backing the same horse. All of which suggests they haven’t learned from the recent unruly behaviour of an ungrateful electorate who have shown they are simply not to be trusted with politics.
Source : When I’m King – No Contest – Batsby
So yesterday – the only non-wet day forecast for the week – I decided to tackle the long-overdue business of fixing the back door. Not the actual full door itself, just the half door fitted to the outside of the frame. Initial diagnosis: door fucked
Since my first tick-a-tick-a-Timex, of which I have written before, I have always worn a wristwatch. I can’t recall a time when I didn’t and for men of my generation, the type of watch you wore said much about you. Which is why I now go for an affordable Seiko in a classic, plain style. Dull, unpretentious, reliable; after all, it has a job to do. Not for me the trendy gigantic face, nor the chronometer with too many buttons, none of which serve any useful purpose. Breitling, Rolex, Cartier et al will never adorn my wrist unless I simultaneously win the lottery and lose my marbles. Like your choice of car, your choice of watch often says less flattering things about you than you’d like and for the cost of a Navitimer I could buy a half-decent set of nondescript wheels.
David Cameron’s appearance before an audience of inquisitors left the nation – those of us who could be bothered to watch, at least – unimpressed. After a light mauling from Faisal Islam in which the Prime Minister looked surprised to be treated without the usual deference he spent much of the time during audience questions on the ropes
After the recent revelations about the British Medical Association and the very political ambitions behind the recent junior doctors’ strike the warring sides are now back around the table and the fuss and furore has died down… for now.
The latest referendum polls showed little change and the government, having decided to campaign for the continued servility of the British economic machine to the puppet masters of Brussels, decided to hold a summit to assess the way forward. After all, their future EU commissioner jobs were at stake here. Around the table various strategies were discussed and a plan of sorts began to come together. But given the exposure of some high profile figures to the enhanced scrutiny of the public gaze they were struggling to come up with a strong enough character to lead the final push.
As referendum day draws rapidly nearer, the claims and counter claims of the two sides and their hangers-on defy political gravity. Every new ‘fact’ is claimed as evidence to simultaneously support remaining in the prosperous country of Future-Europe yet also flies the flag for farting in its face. The EU brings prosperity, the same EU hampers prosperity. Open borders are controlled by being in yet also remain gaping wide open. The level of cognitive dissonance displayed by some in the debate must surely warrant investigation or at least an entry in the Guinness Book of Records.