A Damn Good Thrashing

‘IT is not just the Government that abides by the wisdom of shooting the messenger.

‘We’re shit and we know we are!’

The Sheffield And District Football League operate a similar policy – and are insisting on protecting the feelings of their players after an Under-9 team was trounced 29-0 recently.

The league has decided that the best way to do this is to forbid clubs communicating with the local paper until it agrees not to publish any results in which the score exceeds 14 goals.

Naturally, the Derbyshire Times editor Mike Wilson will not agree – and so the league has threatened disciplinary action on any club asking the paper to publish its score.

The paper was told that words such as ‘trouncing’ were liable to humiliate children on the wrong end of a, er, trouncing.

‘If the teams lose 29-0 and the league doesn’t want it reporting,’ Mr Wilson tells the Times, ‘then perhaps they should be looking at whether they are guilty of mismatching, which could put youngsters off the game, rather than our reports.’

One parent (presumably of a member of the side that won 29-0) said children were ‘gutted’ by the ruling.

‘Life’s not all about winning and our kids have got to learn to take the good with the bad,’ says Wendy McMahon, who is organising a petition demanding an end to the ban.

‘If they lose, they need to know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, as long as they tried their best.’

Fair enough, we suppose, if you lose 2-1 or even 3-1, but not if you’re trounced 29-0! Hang your heads in shame, you losers.’

Posted: 30th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Salad Dodgers

‘YESTERDAY saw the much-trumpeted introduction of the calorific McCaesar Salad into the McDonald’s branch on London’s famous Strand.

Staff get up early to prepare Vanessa Feltz’s breakfast

But when the Telegraph went along expecting to see kids begging their parents to buy them a bowl of lettuce instead of yet another Big Mac, it was disappointed.

The McFlurrys, McChicken Premieres and McNuggets were enjoying a brisk trade, it says, along with the 804-calorie Big Tasty burger, but nary a salad was in evidence.

The signs at the store told of a Brave New McWorld of salad, fruit and yoghurt, all washed down with Evian water, but the reality was very different.

The paper spied only one customer eating salad at a table at lunchtime – ‘and he turned out to be French’.

However, he declined to give the paper his name, fearing no doubt the retribution in his homeland when news got out of his gastronomic faux pas.’

Posted: 30th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Anything But Chardonnay

‘THANKS to Mirror journalist Ryan Parry, we now know a lot more about the Queen’s viewing habits than is healthy for the future of the monarchy.

‘Archbishop! You should be ashamed of yourself’

Now, we know rather more than we needed to about what is on the agenda when Dr Rowan Williams, aka the Archbishop of Canterbury, settles down for a quiet night in.

Previously, the Archbishop has spoken in praise of The Simpsons; and only recently he extolled the books of Philip Pullman.

But Wednesday night in Lambeth Palace is, it seems, Footballers’ Wives night.

But just as Dr Williams likes to engage intellectually with Pullman’s atheism, so it seems he watches the adventures of Earl’s Park’s finest only to criticise.

In his Easter message to his diocese, he called on Christians to look beyond a world enslaves by rivalry, fear and self-seeking.

‘It is what you see on Footballers’ Wives,’ he said. ‘A world in which charity and fairness, generosity, a sense of perspective about yourself are all swept aside.’

Upset though he clearly is about Frank’s death (shagged to death, in case you didn’t know, by gold-digging wife Tanya), Dr Williams’s remarks haven’t pleased everyone.

The show’s executive producer, Brian Park, said the Archbishop had failed to understand the morality of the show.

‘We’re offering a portal to a world of untold wealth and riches,’ he said, ‘but we show that it comes at a price, that it doesn’t buy happiness.’

And the Telegraph is another to criticise the Archbishop’s comments, suggesting that it means either that he watches the show or that he is talking about something he has never seen.

‘On balance, we prefer the first option,’ it says. ‘Bad taste is no sin, but fibbing ought really to be off limits to clergymen.”

Posted: 29th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Politics Idol

‘IF the Archbishop of Canterbury really wants to do something about our Footballers’ Wives culture, then he needs to get out of the pulpit and make his voice heard.

A badger lover

And there is no better place in which to do that than on the new talent show, Vote For Me.

The Independent says ITV is planning to stage a Pop Idol-type show to find a contestant to stand at the next General Election.

The paper says the idea is intended to stimulate interest in the political process, but ‘the notion of the nation’s largest commercial broadcaster throwing its weight behind a future political candidate is highly controversial’.

Instead of singing for their supper, contestants on Vote For Me will have to undergo a grilling from a veteran political interviewer and field questions from a studio audience.

They will then be expected to sleep with their researcher, fiddle their election expenses and spend their evenings at a local beauty spot watching badgers.’

Posted: 29th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Making The Grade

‘ONE thing that the new Politics Idol will quickly learn is that common sense is a currency in short supply in the Houses Of Parliament.

‘Look here, Barry! A copy of Chekhov’s short stories’

After all, common sense dictates that if more and more people get university degrees, then all that will happen is that we will have more and more people doing jobs for which they are overqualified.

Common sense also dictates that if more and more people get A-grades in their GCSEs and A-levels, then the exams themselves will become increasingly worthless as a means of distinguishing pupils’ intelligence.

But common sense, as we know, is rarer than an appearance by Charles Kennedy and so it is we read this morning that both scenarios have come to pass.

The Telegraph, for instance, tells us that teachers think universities should introduce US-style aptitude tests to supplement A-levels.

And the Times reports that all plans to expand the number of university places will do is flood the job market with graduates who will not find jobs to repay their investment in higher education.

The paper quotes a book written by two leading political economists which reveals that 40% of recent graduates are in jobs that do not require degree-level training and that the starting salary for graduates actually fell last year.

We may have binmen who can extemporise on the virtues of 19th Century Russian literature, but they’ll still be emptying bins…’

Posted: 29th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

It’s So Unfair

‘SCHOOL does not work for everyone. For every Tony Blair there is a John Major, for every Mr Chips there’s a Wackford Squeers, who achieves notoriety without a public school education and the Oxbridge mill.

You can see your face in her shoes

It also helps you get ahead if you are blessed with large blue eye, blonde hair, full fleshy lips and childlike features.

And if you get caught nicking from your employers, such an appearance will help you in court too, as the Telegraph says after looking at a report by the research company ICM.

This may well explain why we consider the swarthy, dark-eyed Colonel Gaddafi a pariah not to be fully trusted (that and his record in terrorism).

Better if Libya were in the thrall of Denise Van Outen or Jude Law, two reassuringly blonde, blue-eyed types.

But the good Colonel can recover some lost trust, not least by polishing his sandals – of the people polled, half said they are more likely to trust people with well-polished shoes – and by taking two bottles of shampoo into the shower – 60% said they equate trustfulness with clean hair.

Gaddafi could also smile broadly and frequently, since the report says people who do so are trusted more (see Tony Blair). While those who fidget, fail to make eye contact and look shifty are trusted less (see Tony Blair).

But before you, Tony and Gaddafi dash out for a bottle of peroxide and some collagen, please be aware that not all such makeovers are equally successful.

Hence, we commend to your attention, Leslie Ash, Vanessa Feltz, the Hitler Youth…’

Posted: 26th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

The Day The World Shook

‘WHEN Tony Blair shook hands with Colonel Muammar Gaddafi, it was a big handshake. It was, in the Times’ opinion, the moment when democrat and dictator united against terror.

Tony makes the mistake of standing up wind

It was also a little handshake, in the more literal sense, a truth explored by the paper as it publishes the meeting of men and hands over three shots.

Having forgone the traditional Libyan greeting of a kiss on both cheeks (the way many believe Tony says a fond ‘howdy’ to George Bush), the leaders opted to press flesh.

At ease in his Bedouin tent, Gaddafi extended his right hand. Tony hesitated, then, not unlike a moving scene from the movie ET, extended his fingers and reached out.

But he almost missed the hand, managing only to gain a tentative grip on the Colonel’s fingers. Tony also looked not at the man on the other end of his arm, but at the cameras.

As handshakes go it is not much like some of the other “handshakes that shook the world”, as profiled by the Independent.

When Ronald Regan and Mikhail Gorbachev met in 1985, it was smiles and manly grips; Nelson Mandela and FW De Klerk shook each other with full palms; Winston Churchill, Joseph Stalin and Harry S Truman linked arms in 1945; and Yasser Arafat and Yitzhk Rabin had a warm Oslo Accord.

But this! If Tony is looking to write his name in history he’d better firm that wrist up and grab the pen with more vigour, lest the result be an unintelligible mess.’

Posted: 26th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

On Report

‘WHILE Tony Blair and Colonel Gaddafi talk tents and plan a future meeting at Tony’s canvas expanse somewhere in Greenwich, our leader’s Government press on with making this country even better.

‘Charles is easily influenced by Tony and bigger boys’

And better is what things can only get, so long as the Government tries harder and learns to pay attention and not be easily distracted by what’s going on elsewhere.

To aid improvements, the Times hears the Government unveil plans to send parents two-page reports each year on how their children’s schools are performing.

The “school profile” is being championed by Charles Clarke, the Education Secretary, who sees these reports as a “more rounded” way of telling parents how things are going.

The updates will allow parents to see more than just what examination results and league tables allow, he says.

Included will be such invaluable information as the school’s sporting and community activities, data on classroom performance and a summary of Ofsted’s (the education watchdog) inspection judgements.

The report will also, as is the way with school reports, be routinely lost and in the post, fall victim to hungry dogs, and stolen by “big boys” on its way from school to home.’

Posted: 26th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Clause Out

‘SUDDENLY all is clear – Andrew Motion’s poem in praise of England’s Rugby World Cup win was not in fact the piece of doggerel that we all supposed.

‘And the winner is…’

It was an early entry from the Poet Laureate for the Times’ competition to find the most annoying paragraph in the English language.

And it has indeed set a very high standard, which the paper’s readership will struggle to match.

Nevertheless, tea-drinker and former MP Tony Benn has a stab at doing so this morning, the results of which the Times for some reason decides to emblazon across its Page 3.

But for all the talk of moving goalposts and level playing fields, regime change and coalitions of the willing, it is a pretty anodyne effort.

Motion himself modestly doesn’t mention his own concoction, concentrating his vitriol on the sentence, ‘I would like to draw a line under this and move forward.’

Actor Richard Briers opts for the deeply unimaginative, ‘At this moment in time, people like myself are caught between a rock and a hard place.’

And entrepreneur Martha Lane Fox bizarrely bridles at an expression which we have never once heard uttered, namely ‘To be frank, innit?’

Which is a bit like saying that you hate Fried Egg and Apricot soup.

Needless to say, this is all like a red rag to a bull (sufficiently clichéd?) to Times readers, who have responded in their droves.

Some are based purely on personal prejudice – after all, the words ‘clearly’, ‘sleepy’ and even ‘cool’ are hardly offensive per se.

Some are based on false logic – one reader objects to BBC presenters using the phrase ‘one of the only’ on the grounds that you can’t have one of the one.

But others do reveal what happens when lunatics are allowed access to Microsoft Word and a spell-check.

One reader’s departmental vision reads: ‘We are a high-performing and trusted business partner, providing innovative value-added solutions, service and support within a framework of sound corporate governance.’

It is such complete bollocks that we have decided to adopt it as our vision here in Anorak Towers – and we recommend that companies and departments up and down the country do the same.

However, even that is unlikely to win the Times prize. To do that, we suggest you pick up a novel by Martin Amis, pick out a paragraph at random and send it in.

The only chance you have of being beaten is if Mr Amis decides to compose a special entry himself.’

Posted: 25th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Bullet Points

‘IF the French, Germans – or indeed anyone else – is thinking of invading these green and pleasant lands in the near future, can we suggest that they wait a while?

The British Army’s tank is already committed in Iraq

You see, our armed forces are a bit stretched what with the Prime Minister’s propensity for declaring war on some unsuspecting country on the third Tuesday of every month.

So much so that General Sir Michael Walker, Chief Of The Defence Staff, tells the Telegraph that we won’t be able to mount another war on the scale of Iraq for another five years.

Now, you might think this was information worth keeping under one’s standard issue beret lest one of our enemies decides that this is the perfect time to get revenge on perfidious Albion.

But France and Germany are our European partners these days and, despite the fact that they have soldiers aplenty after refusing to send any of them to Iraq, they wouldn’t hit us when we’re down. Would they?

‘I think we have already accepted that we cannot do another large-scale operation now,’ Sir Michael said yesterday (with a simultaneous French and German translation).

‘We are unlikely to be able to get to large scale much before the end of the decade, around 08 or 09.’

Part of the problem is ammunition. The Army’s supply of bullets, which ran into dozens before Iraq, is now in single figures.

And although rules of engagement have been altered, requiring soldiers to shout ‘BANG!’ very loudly where once they might have used a bullet, it is likely to be several years before stocks reach three figures again.’

Posted: 25th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Of Mice And Men

‘THE National Mouse Club was established in 1985 by the Victorians with the purpose of promoting ‘the breeding and exhibition of fancy mice’.

It’s a job for…The Great Mouse Detective

Since then, it has outgrown its roots in the East End of London and now boasts 150 members drawn from ten regional clubs.

But never in the club’s 109-year history has there been a scandal like there was at the Spring Cup Show, held at the end of February at the village hall in Snareshill, near Wolverhampton.

No-one is sating exactly what went on that fateful Sunday, but the Times has heard allegations that one member got drunk and punched another member before strangling his prize-winning mouse.

Bob Chappell, a meat wholesaler from Shrewsbury and owner of said mouse, admitted that his chocolate and tan rodent had been found dead in its cage.

‘It is true there was an incident involving another member who is being investigated, but that is nothing to do with the death of the mouse,’ he said.

‘That could have been from a heart attack or a number of other reasons. The altercation with the member was just the last straw that broke the camel’s back.’

Dead mice, paralysed camels and a disgruntled meat wholesaler…no wonder club secretary Brian Cookson does not want to discuss the incident.

‘Whatever happened,’ he told the Times, ‘is nothing to do with you if you are not a member.’

Donit worry, Mr Cookson – our application form’s in the post.’

Posted: 25th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

With Strings Attached

‘PERFORMANCE related pay is, as we all know, based on several criteria, none of which have anything to do with performance.

Nearly new – one careful owner

They normally include gender (man good, woman bad), length of service (calculated in inverse proportion to years served), competence (again calculated in inverse proportion) and, for publicly quoted companies, share price (see above).

In the case of senior management, the formula for calculating PRP can be extremely complicated – a typical equation involves plucking a large number out of the air and multiplying it by a million pounds.

Small wonder that it is almost an article of faith in this post-Thatcherite world, which holds that you can represent and job or pastime in the form of an algebraic equation.

And so it was only a matter of time before it reached even the high arts, with the Times reporting this morning on how the string section of a German orchestra is asking a court to rule on its claim that it deserves more money than the brass section because it plays more notes.

The fiddlers and scrapers of the Beethoven Orchestra in Bonn say they should be getting an extra £60 per rehearsal or performance to reflect the extra work they do.

Why £60? Surely, you say, an appropriate fee could be worked out on a per note basis for each piece they play.

Yes, but that would be pedantic.

‘We could have calculated the surcharge per semi-quaver,’ one violinist said, ‘but we chose to take an easier course.’

Needless to say, the other sections of the orchestra are unimpressed.

‘The strings may play more,’ one trumpeter replied, ‘but they don’t have to perform as many solo sections as the brass, which is a lot more pressurised.’

They also don’t make as loud a noise as the brass, which is another criterion on which PRP is often calculated.

Nor do the rogue fiddlers have the support of their union.

Orchestra Union spokesman Gerald Mertens said: ‘Of course, strings are in action more than the brass, but any violinist not happy with that should have taken up the trumpet at music school.’

As cries of ‘Heresy!’ go up across this performance-related New Labour Wonderland, we in Anorak Towers keep our heads bowed and fingers dancing over the keyboard.

After all, time is money – or P = T (1.725*S)/(m/0.699), as Mr Anorak himself says.’

Posted: 24th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Call Of The Wild

‘NO-ONE knew better than John Birt the wonders of performance-related pay, targets, internal markets, management speak and all the other modern inventions that have made Britain what it is today.

You pay peanuts, you get monkeys

And, although JB has gone from the BBC to advise TB on how the whole British life can be represented in a single quadratic equation, his legacy lives on.

This morning, the Independent reports that Rosamund Kidman Cox, the well-respected editor of the BBC Wildlife magazine, is resigning after 21 years rather than carry on working for a low-cost version of the magazine published by an outside company.

Of course, all you management gurus out there will know that this is called outsourcing and is a great way of getting other people to do all your work for you.

So much so that the most successful bosses have managed to devolve every part of their operation, enabling them to fire all their staff, get rid of their offices and eventually close down the company altogether.

Anyway, back to the BBC and Ms Kidman Cox – and the Indy tells us that green campaigners, writers, film makers and other unenlightened ne-er-do-wells are queuing up to lambaste the BBC over its decision.

Tony Juniper, director of Friends Of The Earth, said: ‘Ros has created probably the world’s leading wildlife magazine and for that achievement to be put at risk through some short-sighted BBC business decision geared towards cost-cutting is tragic.’

But is it? Origin Publishing, the new publishers of BBC Wildlife (soon to be renamed something like Predator), has great experience in the magazine industry.

Witness the global reputations of publications like Cross Stitch Crazy and Your Hair.’

Posted: 24th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

The Wild West

‘JOURNALISTS love estate agents. We pretend we don’t – we pretend that, like everyone else, we think they’re sharp-suited sheisters who’s sell their grandmother for a quick buck.

Ripoff & Con Estate Agents

But actually we love them because in polls they are the one group of people who are consistently less popular than us scribes.

And the Times does its little bit this morning to make sure it stays that way, reporting on how rogue estate agents overcharge sellers by £350m.

That is not per transaction – even in today’s inflated housing market we might notice such a sum – but per year in a sector that annually makes £2.5bn in fees.

Amid the property boom, the Times says complaints against the industry have soared and even estate agents themselves have been calling for tighter regulations.

But the Office Of Fair Trading has rejected a licensing scheme that would have made it harder for cowboys to operate.

Instead, it has given the industry a further two years to clean up its act.

Which is a bit like King Augeas telling his horses to clean up their own stables.’

Posted: 24th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Unfriendly Fire

”ALL of us understand Israel’s need to protect itself – and it is fully entitled to do that – against the terrorism which affects it, within international law,’ says Jack Straw on the cover of the Telegraph.

British troops attacked in Basra

‘But it is not entitled to go in for this kind of unlawful killing and we condemn it. It is unacceptable, it is unjustified and it is very unlikely to achieve its objectives.’

At this point cynics may snort and compare the Israeli government’s killing of the so-called spiritual leader of the Hamas terror group with the Allied invasion of Iraq.

As ‘unlawful’ killing goes, the death of Sheikh Ahmed Yassin, who the Israeli defence minister calls the ‘Palestinian bin Laden’, seems not a million miles away from what British forces would like to do to the head of al-Qaeda and did to Saddam Hussein’s sons.

The whiff of hypocrisy is unmistakable, as are the cries of vengeance from Yassin’s supporters and the news that violence will breed more violence in the Middle East.

The most vivid reaction to Yassin’s assassination is seen on the cover of the Times where a British soldier is seen with his fatigues ablaze.

One of 17 soldiers wounded in an attack by a mob hurling petrol bombs in the Iraqi city of Basra, the soldier grapples to take off his burning helmet as the crowd chant: ‘Yes, yes to Yassin. No, no to America, Britain and Israel.’

But despite this apparent chanting, Major Tim Smith, the British military spokesman in Basra, sees no link between what happens in Israel with life in Iraq.

‘There is no evidence whatsoever to link this incident with any other, or with political events elsewhere,’ he tells the Telegraph.

Perhaps he should try convincing Jack Straw of that…’

Posted: 23rd, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

A Bunch Of Croutons

‘BRAIN surgeons have a pretty untarnished reputation. Like rocket scientists, they are held up as the paragons of human endeavour.

Where there’s life, there’s Hope

You tell yourself that you can assemble flat-packed furniture because it is not ‘brain surgery’. Brain surgery is the benchmark of excellence.

Or it was until we read today’s Telegraph and caught a glimpse of what a brain surgeon looks like.

There he is on the paper’s Page 3. His name’s Terence Hope and he’s just been sent home on gardening leave by his employers at the Queen’s Medical Centre, Nottingham.

Mr Hope has been removed from his post at said hospital following what a spokeswoman for the hospital calls ‘allegations about his personal conduct’.

These allegations centre on a debate over whether or not Mr Hope intended to refill his soup bowl in the staff canteen without paying or had simply approached the tureen intent on grabbing a fistful of croutons.

The spokeswoman for the hospital confirms, via the Guardian, that ‘the dispute is about soup and croutons’ and that 57-year-old Mr Hope has been suspended.

Back in the Telegraph Mr Hope has donned a large shaggy ginger wig of the type favoured by followers of Scotland football teams, a large greenish coloured woollen hat, a blue apron and placed a pipe between his lips.

This is, apparently, a disguise, but since most of us have never met a brain surgeon or shared a bowl of soup with one, we cannot be so sure.’

Posted: 23rd, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Dead In The Water

‘IF Sammy the seal lived in the Middle East, he’d be dead in the water already, struck by a high-velocity rocket fired from a helicopter.

‘Here, Sammy, Sammy!’

But, luckily for Sammy the 600lb bull seal, he lives in the waters off Mersea Island, in Essex.

However, he’s not without his enemies and the Times reports that one fisherman, sick of Sammy stealing fish from his nets, has applied for a firearms licence to shoot the seal.

Surprisingly, the police turned down the application. Not because they were unhappy at Sammy’s demise, but because they didn’t want the fisherman to have all the fun.

So they advertised for a contract killer to do the job.

‘We are ready to help,’ says a police spokesman, ‘but we cannot simply let the fisherman shoot the animal. If he can find a person who has a firearms licence, we are willing to alter the conditions so that the gun owner can shoot the seal…

‘I know they are pretty animals with big, appealing eyes, but this seal is causing the fisherman enormous problems’ – chiefly in finding ways to kills it.

So the search is on for someone up to the job. But what’s that in the sky? It’s a bird? It’s a plane? No, it’s an Apache helicopter bristling with guns.

Swim, Sammy, swim! But not too far – that’s the Persian Gulf and… Oh, dear! Poor, poor Sammy. But his death will be avenged and war will be waged between seal and man…’

Posted: 23rd, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Red Alert

‘NOT since the moment when Tony Blair stripped off his jacket to reveal two drenched armpits have a man’s sweat glands proved so newsworthy.

Next time Charles would wear basque and suspenders in a bigger size

The man doing a Blair is Charles Kennedy, whose propensity to sweat captivates all the papers.

The face of the leader of the Liberal Democrats makes it onto the cover of the Times, where readers can see the Scot delivering his speech at the party’s spring conference in Southport.

Described as “gaunt, pale and perspiring”, the marked shift in Kennedy’s appearance from the chubby, robust leader who delivered his first address as leader in 2000 is obvious.

The Telegraph, sensing injured prey, moves in close, zooming in on Kennedy’s eyes and a bead of sweat snaking its way down from temple to drawn cheek.

The Independent suggests that Kennedy is suffering from stage fright, the condition when “anxiety turns to panic”.

If so, Kennedy’s in good company, as the paper tells us how Stephen Fry boarded a ferry for France after a critical savaging for his performance in the play Cell Mates.

And Mel Gibson suffered so badly that, in his first school production, his legs and body failed him and he had to perform sitting down, causing him to vow that one day he would do the nativity play as it was meant to be done.

We even hear from a doctor, one Paul Miller, a consultant psychologist, who tells us that stage fright comes about when someone is asked to perform before a large group of people.

Another doctor is employed to state the obvious over a pair of lowered bifocals by the Times. There, Dr Thomas Stuttaford tells us that Kennedy “looked unhappy”.

Kennedy, however, will surely be slightly less unhappy knowing that if he is ill, the country’s medical experts are skilled enough to cope.’

Posted: 22nd, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

The Laughing Policemen

‘WHEN the Metropolitan police commissioner Sir John Stevens talks, people listen.

Even Jordan doesn’t have three

And that’s not always because he’s talking through a massive loud hailer and more shouting than talking. Sometimes, it’s because he talks sense.

Having told us that a terror attack on London is “inevitable”, and so made the rest of us as anxious and sweaty as Charles Kennedy, Stevens tells us how to combat the, er, inevitable.

Stage one would be to leave London. But from the highly trained mind of a copper, there comes some alternative advice.

Thankfully, all advice can be contained in the simple warning: remain vigilant. If you see anyone doing anything suspicious, tell the police.

If they are photographing famous London buildings, then tell the police.

They might be German tourists, but their arrest and subsequent interrogation is a small price to pay for our continued freedom.

Oh, and if when you do tell the police, do try to address them without looking at their hats and laughing.

The Independent says that the new unisex police helmet is making the constabulary a joke.

Jason Hunt, of the City of London Police, writes in the Police Review: “Faceless individuals are being allowed to sweep away a piece of national identity with no remit to do so.

“I take great exception at being made to look a laughing stock by having to wear this ridiculous item.”

He and others like him call for the return of the old helmet, with its reassuring pert nipple on top and rounded base.

A helmet that virtually guarantees law and order on its own.’

Posted: 22nd, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Jailhouse Rock

‘AS thousands of German tourists make their way to a holding centre in Cuba, the Telegraph checks out facilities at our domestic jails.

‘Ladies, gentlemen, murderers and thieves, we give you ten years to life and Gareth Gates….’

And things are looking pretty good. The en-suite toilets are useful, the soap is slippery and the security is more than adequate.

The house band is pretty useful too – especially the one at Dartmoor prison, where new governor Claudia Stuart has given the go ahead for a concert by 26-yar-old folk musician Seth Lakeman.

“Seth’s songs are about people on Dartmoor and its inhabitants and, of course, the prison is all about people,” she says. “It is a good match.”

And Seth is looking forward to his performance before a captive audience. He hopes to rock the house and even invite some of the talented musicians within the prison walls to join him on stage.

We’re sure it will a great success, and if you want to be there to see Seth you can by sending an explosive and self-addressed envelope in the post to T. Blair at 10 Downing Street.

Or just laugh at a policeman’s hat…’

Posted: 22nd, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Survival Of The Unfittest

‘IT turns out that when Charles Darwin came up with his theory of natural selection, he was not talking about the survival of the fittest as we now understand it.

The man with the biggest belt wins

The continuing existence of the Feltz dynasty should have been proof of that.

In fact, in the animal kingdom it appears that it’s a real advantage to be a bit of a minger.

When it came down to a battle between beautiful British red squirrels and ugly Yankee grey ones, we’re sad to say the latter won hands down.

There’s a reason that pigeons proliferate, while golden eagles are rarer than an uncooked sirloin steak.

When permatanned Grant Bovey stepped into the ring with Ricky Gervais, he should have known that he would be no match for the overweight comic.

And so it is that we read on the front of the Guardian that the butterfly population in Britain is in mass decline, while moths continue to flourish.

The paper says that in the past 20 years, about 70% of all butterfly species in Britain have shown signs of decline.

In the same time frame, 28% of plant species and 54% of bird species have also declined.

“The lesson and the warning are there for all to see,” says Sandra Knapp, a botanist at the Natural History Museum.

“Britain, by virtue of its well-known and well-studied biodiversity, is the canary for the rest of the globe.”

The only trouble is that the rest of the world has to listen before the canary goes the same way as so many birds before.’

Posted: 19th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Hell’s Bells!

‘IF Quasimodo were alive today, the chances are that he’d never have been allowed access to Notre Dame.

His face rings a bell

His criminal record would have immediately disqualified him from acting as a bell-ringer and he would therefore not have been able to offer sanctuary to his beloved Esmeralda.

In France, common sense may still prevail, but here we read in the Telegraph that the Church of England has decided that its 40,000 bell-ringers should all have undergo the same kind of child protection tests as teachers.

All ringers – and potential ringers – will now be obliged to go through an eight-point application process, including providing two referees, undergoing an interview and being vetted by the Criminal Records Bureau.

And Dr Michael Henshaw, president of the Central Council Of Church Bell Ringers, is none too happy about it – and has written to Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Rowan Williams to say so.

“It seems entirely unnecessary for volunteers going into an activity which is not aimed at children but at all ages,” he says.

But the Church disagrees.

“The Church’s first responsibility is to ensure the safety of children,” a spokesman says, “and if that involves adults filling in forms, that is what has to happen.”

One wonders what effect these new rules would have had if they had been in place in First Century Judea.

“Suffer little children to come unto me,” Jesus says (Mark 10:14).

“Not until you’ve completed Forms C-D26, C-D27 and P1452 and been vetted by the Criminals Record Bureau we won’t,” replies the Pharisee (Mark 10:15).’

Posted: 19th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

The Elixir Of Youth

‘IF you have a troublesome grandmother or cantankerous step-mother who refuses to take her cue to shuffle off this mortal coil, read on.

It was to be Cyril’s lucky night

Don’t let the toothless old crone gamble away your inheritance on bingo or blow it all on a septuagenarian toyboy. Hide her sherry!

Yes, it’s not the diet of old age sex and constant complaint that’s keeping the hag alive, but the booze.

Take her sherry from her and she’ll be off your hands quicker than you can say, “Come in, Dr Shipman.”

The Indy has news of a study, conducted unsurprisingly by scientists in Spain, that claims a glass of the fortified wine has similar effects on cholesterol levels as a glass of red wine.

Last year, studies showed that Guinness reduced the risk of blood clots that cause heart attacks – good news for all the Irish celebrating Best Mate’s third Gold Cup win at Cheltenham yesterday.

Now, sherry can be added to the growing list of alcoholic drinks that are good for our health (when consumed in moderation).

“Sherry is widely consumed, especially in Spain and the UK,’ says Juan Guerrero, one of the researchers, ‘and we have shown that its moderate intake decreased total cholesterol and increased high-density lipoprotein cholesterol, which is good for you.”

Conversely, the withdrawal of someone’s daily tot will cause their arteries to clog up quicker than the bookies on pension day.’

Posted: 19th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Budget Shakedown

‘GORDON Brown hasn’t been able to open his mouth for the past few years without pundits ruminating on how each utterance relates to his well-known wish to be Prime Minister.

House hunting?

So, when this morning’s Times headlines its Budget coverage with the highly ambiguous, ‘The Race For No.10 Starts Here’, it hardly needs to reinforce the point with a front-page cartoon of Mr Brown reading a pamphlet, saying ‘New Homes: Supply Lags Behind Demand’, and dreaming of Downing Street.

Any race for No.10 these days involves not only Tony Blair and whoever his Tory challenger du jour is, but also the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

However, what all the papers agree upon is that Mr Brown’s eighth Budget, delivered yesterday, was designed to keep Michael Howard away from Britain’s most famous political address.

‘This was an intensely political performance,’ says the Telegraph with grudging admiration, ‘by a Chancellor on triumphalist form, aimed unashamedly at wrongfooting the Opposition in advance of the next election.’

The Guardian agrees, although it sees Brown’s own agenda coming to the fore.

‘From beginning to end the aim of the speech was clear,’ it says. ‘To stake out the political battleground of the next 15 months and ensure that when combat is joined in earnest, it is on Brown’s terms. Not the Government’s, but his.’

So, what were the main measures announced in yesterday’s hour-long speech?

Er, we turn to the Indy’s ‘Budget At A Glance’ and can tell you that beer’s up a penny a pint, fags are up 8p a packet of 20, fuel’s up by 1.9p a litre and education’s up by £13bn in the next couple of years.

As Mr Brown trumpeted the longest sustained period of growth for 200 years, Mr Howard accused him of being a ‘credit card chancellor’ who had produced a ‘borrow now, tax later Budget’.

However, the truth is that, apart from tax specialists and political anoraks, there was not much in what Mr Brown said to get excited about.

Most of the speech was taken up by boasting about public spending increases that already taken place or were going to take place.

But for all that the Guardian says the whole speech could be summed up in four words, ‘Polling day is coming’, the papers have to produce reams and reams of reaction, analysis, graphics and pictures of ‘ordinary’ people.

Happily, however, these days the Guardian’s 12-page, the Telegraph’s 16-page, Times’ 24-page and the Indy’s 32-page Budget specials all come in the form of a supplement.

A quick shake of the paper in the newsagent’s and we can all enjoy a Budget-free morning…’

Posted: 18th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

The Twenty-Seven Ages Of Man

‘WITH the Budget safely out of the way for another year, we return to the Budget and ask: ‘What kind of man is Gordon Brown?’

A right Jeffrey

No, we know he’s a dour Scot, a brooding political obsessive, a smiling father-of-one and a huge fan of hard house music, but what kind of man is he?

You see, Stephen Whitehead, a gender expert at Keele University, has spent the past 15 years studying masculinity and has concluded that, when it comes to their relationships with the opposite sex, men fall into one of 27 categories.

Is Brown a Murdoch – a man of ‘Napoleonic self-belief, usually justified; ruthless, untiring’ – or is he a Wayne – ‘heroic, unchanging, loyal and steadfast’?

Is he a Mr Angry – ‘moody, aggressive, but doesn’t see his actions as damaging’ – or a Preacher – ‘fundamentalist views; single-minded, fervent and intense’?

Perhaps, his wife Sarah would tell us that he is fact a Teddy Bear – ‘sensitive, vulnerable and a good listener, but not sexy’ – or a Trainspotter – ‘middle-aged, plenty of brown cardigans and obsessed with data collection’.

Or is he a Blair – ‘a normal sort of bloke; trustworthy, one of life’s good guys; plays a mean guitar’?’

Posted: 18th, March 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment