Broadsheets Category
Top news from The Times, Daily Telegraph, The Indepedent and The Guardian newspapers
Pig Ignorant
‘GLOBAL warming is expected to wipe out a million species over the next 50 years – a quarter of the world’s animal population.
| ”And what have the Arabs ever done for you, Cat?” |
Sadly, we will not get the chance to choose which million species are to go the way of the dodo, otherwise we would enthusiastically nominate Robert Kilroy-Silk.
Happily, however, it appears that the permatanned talkshow host is busy digging his own grave after an article in the Sunday Express attacking Arabs en masse was reported to the police for a possible breach of the Public Order Act.
In the offending (and offensive) article, Kilroy-Silk referred to Arabs as ”suicide bombers, limb-amputators and women repressors”.
”The Arab countries are not exactly shining examples of civilisation, are they?” he wrote. ”Few of them make much contribution to the welfare of the rest of the world.
”Indeed, apart from oil – which was discovered, is produced and is paid for by the West – what do they contribute?
”Can you think of anything? Anything really useful? Anything really valuable? Something we really need, could not do without?”
Before getting into a debate about civilisations, Kilroy-Silk should read up on the Persian empire, on Mesopotamia, on Babylon, on the Pharoahs of Egypt – just by way of example.
And, if so, perhaps he should ask what his ancestors were doing at a time when the Egyptians were constructing their magnificent pyramids.
Probably rubbing two sticks together to try to get fire to power their primitive sunbed.’
Posted: 8th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
A Numbers Game
‘GOOD morning. This is HX47658B talking to you from deep inside the bowels of Anorak Towers.
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| BF28549A |
Around me sit my colleagues FA87256A, LU90121A and VD54906B; on the wall hang posters of the luscious NN67498A and the delectable SX68262B; and from the radio wafts out the dulcet tones of MN28710A.
We paint this happy picture of life working for the UK’s premier online magazine not to make you feel jealous as you slave away in your fancy open-plan office but as evidence of how a la mode we are (to borrow an expression from our French friends).
We have, you see, already dispensed with such archaic forms of identity as names in anticipation of the Government’s plan to allocate a unique number to each and every single one of us.
The Guardian says the £240m scheme would supersede NHS and national insurance numbers and provide a device with which to regulate all access to public services, along the lines of the US social security number.
It will also end once and for all the widespread and confusing duplication of names.
For instance, we read on the front page of this morning’s Telegraph the tragic news of Michael Howard, a father of three who was run over and killed in front of his former model wife while trying to stop thieves stealing his car.
The story is no less tragic, if slightly less newsworthy, for the fact that the Michael Howard in question was not the new leader of the Tory party (also a father of three and married to a former model) but a director of a Salford-based pharmaceutical company.
Any confusion engendered by the fact that the two men share a name as well as key personal details would of course be removed by Labour’s plans to replace names with numbers.
As we all know, Tory leader Michael Howard is BF28549A, while his erstwhile namesake was WE19620B. The two numbers could hardly be more different.’
Posted: 7th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
A Question Of Degrees
‘IF you think about it, our antiquated system of identifying people by name was just crying out for reform.
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| Victorious England rugby captain |
After all, the fact that one of the England rugby captain’s ancestors was called John is not a great way of differentiating him from a former Swedish weather girl who also boasts an ancestor of the same name.
What we don’t know yet, however, is whether we will be able to pay extra to personalise our ID number in the same way as some of us do now with car licence plates.
It goes without saying that Tony will be GOD1, but the Government will surely not pass up the opportunity to raise much-needed revenue by auctioning off other variations on a theme.
For now, however, it has other fish to fry – or rather not to fry.
The Times reports that, such is our inability to run a bath correctly, the Government has stepped in (not literally) and is going to do it for us.
From now on, all bath water will have to be heated to a temperature specified by Whitehall to prevent the 570 serious scalding injuries recorded in Britain each year.
‘Many are caused when parents run a bath for their child by turning on the hot tap first and the child jumps in before the cold water has been added,’ reports the paper.
‘Others occur when parents top up the hot water in a bath tub already occupied by children and forget to turn it off.’
The Government is considering a two-tier approach to temperature, with children and old people bathing in water heated to 43C and adults in water at 47C.
However, there are fears that the legislation will spell the end of the cold bath, a public school institution on which an empire was built.
Cold baths today, buggery tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope…’
Posted: 7th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Spitting Image
‘AT Anorak, we feel it is our role merely to impart the news of the day to our esteemed readers, not to embellish it with comment.
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| Do NOT try this at home |
With this in mind, we are content simply to pass on a report from the British Journal Of Cancer, which is reproduced in this morning’s Telegraph.
Its conclusion, reached after a study of the diets of 40,000 Japanese men and women, will come as a blow to those with a salty diet, who evidence suggests are twice as likely to develop stomach cancer as those with a low-salt diet.
The news, however, is made easier to swallow, by the news that rates of stomach cancer are declining in Japan, owing (according to the Telegraph) to a reduction in smoking, salted and pickled food.
Yeah, and the rest…’
Posted: 7th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Concrete Cows Week
‘THE past 30 years have been a difficult time for Steerforth & Son, purveyors of fine concrete cows to the aristocracy since 1836.
| The Milton Keynes rodeo had trouble attracting a crowd |
In fact, it could be said that the bottom has rather fallen out of the concrete cow market in the past three decades – or at least since Milton Keynes was created.
But, as Nikolai Kondratiev famously observed, economics goes in cycles and the good times are here again for the ailing firm.
The Guardian announces that Milton Keynes (or MK, as it is known to its few friends) is to double in size over the next 20 years, overtaking such cities as Nottingham, Leicester and perhaps even Liverpool.
The Government plans to build 70,000 new houses in what will be the biggest urban expansion in Britain for 50 years, boosting the town’s population from its current 210,000 to 370,000 and beyond.
And that, of course, means that dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of new concrete cows will be needed.
All of which is good news for our friends at Steerforth & Son, but less good news for anyone or anything living in the countryside immediately surrounding MK.
Squirrels will have to find new places to store their nuts, badgers will have to look for an alternative venue wherein to cavort for the pleasure of Ron Davies and his friends, and Buddhists will have to find new woods in which to meditate.
Nor should any of the above count on being able to use Edward James’s private half-acre wood in Essex, least of all the Buddhists.
The Telegraph reports that 51-year-old Mr James has been told to apply for planning permission before he and a few friends can sit cross-legged among his own trees and meditate.
However, despite a complaint from a local resident and an objection from Essex Wildlife Trust (which is worried about damage to trees), Rochford district council is being advised to grant the permission.
”The whole thing has got ridiculously out of hand,” Mr James tells the paper.
”I was told I would need planning permission because it was change of use from woodland to meditational woodland.
”I had to fill in the same forms that you would need to build a skyscraper.”
In which case, we suggest that Mr James builds said skyscraper. That would shut his whinging neighbour up.
Om, as they’re no longer allowed to say in Essex….’
Posted: 6th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
The Mother Load
‘FIRST, some good news for the embattled Tories – the election of Michael Howard as leader has given the Tory party a two-point boost in the opinion polls.
| Hitler used to give his mum a lift to bingo every Monday |
Now for some bad news for the embattled Tories – the election of Michael Howard as leader has given the Labour party a four-point boost in the opinion polls.
That is according to this morning’s poll in the Times, which sees the Liberal Democrats being squeezed by the main two parties as its support drops for the fourth month in a row.
Now for some more bad news for the Tories – the poll suggests that Labour are heading for another crushing election victory, with only a quarter of all voters believing that Howard will become Prime Minister.
However, rather than study the Tory leader’s homage to John D Rockefeller to determine Howard’s fate, we should just ask ourselves: ‘Does Michael love his mum?’
This morning’s Indy quotes Scottish research that suggests that mummy’s boys make the best leaders, citing as evidence the fact that Adolf Hitler always carried a photograph of his mother while Lenin, Mahatma Gandhi, President George W Bush and Sir Richard Branson were all very close to their old dears.
And, as for Oedipus, well let’s just say that Thebes never had it so good for a while.’
Posted: 6th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Goodwill Hunting
‘IT is customary at Christmas for businesses to send cards to their best customers, their suppliers and even journalists they want to suck up to.
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| ‘And here’s how you cook the books’ |
But most contain relatively anodyne messages inside – ‘Seasons Greetings’, ‘Have A Prosperous 2004’ and the like.
Disgraced dairy giant Parmalat, however, has opted for a slightly more piquant message in its greetings to journalists.
‘I wish you and your families a slow and painful death,’ former finance director Fausto Tonna said as he entered the public prosecutor’s office in Parma yesterday.
It is in such a spirit of kindness that we hope Signor Tonna rots in whichever prison he is being held.
And we would also like to remind him that we expect him to wear a tie for his next appearance in front of the magistrate.
As for Parmalat itself, Italian investigators have discovered that, as part of a massive fraud, several company documents had been forged using scissors and a scanner.
Even in Italy, Blue Peter has a lot to answer for.’
Posted: 6th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Art And The Man
‘REMEMBER Robin Cook? Small, gnome-like man with a red beard and a taste for ugly secretaries. Used to be Foreign Secretary. Resigned from the Cabinet last year over the war in Iraq.
| Portarit Of The Artist As A Gnome |
No? Lucky you. If only it were so easy for the rest of us to forget the little troll and his ”ethical” foreign policy – but we are reminded of his four-year tenure every time we go into one of Britain’s embassies abroad.
In the new British embassy in Berlin, for instance, we see the image of Mr Cook in a £190,000 sculpture by Tony Cragg, entitled Dancing Columns.
In Paris, Mr Cook’s time in office is marked by the oil painting L’Arrivee du Rio George V et de la Reine Mari a l’Opera, Paris by Eugene-Louis Gillot.
And in Lisbon, we see red (with wisps of grey in the beard) when we gaze on an 1880 watercolour by George Lennard Lewis.
In fact, according to the Telegraph, during Mr Cook’s tenure the Foreign Office spent £746,000 buying paintings and sculptures – enough money to wallpaper both of Lord Irvine’s downstairs toilets.
Instead of beating swords into ploughshares, it seems that Mr Cook’s ethical foreign policy involved beating swords into expensive sculpture.
That and selling Black Hawk helicopters to Indonesia – to be used purely in a purely peaceful capacity, of course.
In fact, during that time the Foreign Office spent more on art than the Culture Department, whose job it is to replenish the official Government Art Collection, a collection that already boasts 10,000 pieces.
Liberal Democrat MP Norman Baker, who unearthed the information, tells the Telegraph that it shows that Foreign Office spending is not being controlled properly.
”It look as though, if a minister wants to spend money on art, he or she can do it with no control at all,” he said.
No details are available on what art the Foreign Office has purchased since Jack Straw has been at the helm.
But Anorak has learnt that pieces include Osama Bin Laden’s unmade bed (in the Pakistan embassy), a light that goes on and off (in the Baghdad embassy), and a bronze of George Dubya Bush’s bottom (in the Washington embassy), entitled Lick Me.’
Posted: 5th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
New Labour, New Tarmac
‘EFFORTS to ban fox hunting have repeatedly foundered against a Barbour-clad wall of opposition from groups such as the Countryside Alliance.
| Welcome To Somerset |
Every time the issue comes to a vote, hereditary peers, who haven’t been to London since the Coronation (of George V) leave their country seats for the day and pile into the House of Lords to thwart the will of Tony Blair and his shiny-suited cronies.
But still the Government refuses to give up – and, resourceful to the last, comes up with a new strategy to protect the fox and dump on the country bumpkins who chase him.
”Labour Plans To Build On Countryside,” leads this morning’s Times by way of introduction to news that local councils are going to lose their powers to block building on greenfield sites.
The paper says John Prescott plans to target the Nimby (Not In My Back Yard) mentality of shire councils who can halt development by designating an area worthy of conservation.
He wants to create more industrial jobs in the countryside and also turn disused agricultural buildings into new homes in a move described by rural campaigners as ”a pox on the countryside”.
If they think that’s a pox on the countryside, they should see Labour’s long-term rural policy (a copy of which mysteriously found its way to the Anorak offices over the festive season).
Among the plans scheduled for after the next election are to tarmac over Somerset and turn it into a giant car-park; to turn Devon and Cornwall into a giant rural theme park, known as The Countryside Experience, accessible on payment of a £14 entry fee and via a park and ride service operated from Somerset; to fence off Kent and turn it into a holding bay for asylum seekers; to drill for oil under the Lake District, Peak District and Yorkshire Dales; and to ease traffic congestion by widening the M1 to 22 lanes each way.
As a happy by-product of these plans, by 2010 there will be no countryside left, ergo no country bumpkins to spend their days chasing after foxes and therefore a happy Reynard wandering contentedly from bin to bin with his urban friends in search of his next meal…’
Posted: 5th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Space Hoppers
‘IS it any coincidence that, at a time when the United States and its ally, the United Kingdom, are under the greatest terrorist threat in their history, they should both be launching expeditions to Mars?
| A one-hit wonder? |
Indeed, the suspicious among us might conclude that with their popularity on Earth at a low ebb (particularly in the Arab world), President Bush and Tony Blair are looking to Outer Space for a bolt-hole (and one with slightly more space than Saddam Hussein’s last hiding place).
The Guardian reports that Osama Bin Laden has released yet another audiotape urging Muslims to rise up against American forces in Iraq and disparaging the Middle East roadmap to peace.
And although he promises to chase the Americans and their allies wherever they are in the world, interestingly he makes no mention of Mars or indeed any other planet.
Indeed, you might have the feeling that you’ve heard the tape before, featuring as it does Bin Laden banging on about ”the jihad to check the conspiracies hatched against the Islamic nation”.
Someone should tell the Al Qaeda leader that it is not enough to repackage the same old monotonous rubbish and release it every couple of months.
Then again, it works for Westlife…’
Posted: 5th, January 2004 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Give War A Chance
‘WHEN George Bush came over on his State visit, we asked him a question. We wanted to know where we could join up and fight the war on terror.
| B is for ‘Bomb the crap out of anyone who disagrees with you’ |
People say, how can I help on this war against terror? replied George. We urged him to go on. How can I fight evil? You can do so by mentoring a child; by going into a shut-ins house and saying I love you.
We tried Georges Plan A and noted that when we said I love you to a small boy in a shut-in house, the police were called, we were taken away and the News Of The World ran our mugshots beneath the headline Hangings Too Good For Em.
The war did not end there, and others, like us, were disappointed to see that love was not enough and al-Quaeda and their nefarious cohorts still bombed innocents in Tunisia, Morocco, Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia and Turkey.
It was time for Plan B. It was time to put down the flowers, pick up enormous bombs and drop them on so much sand in Iraq.
Saddam Hussein had to be stopped from building his infamous weapons of mass destruction.
After all, as Tony Blair told us, we were a mere 45 minutes away from annihilation. It was, in the language of Bushs Wild West rhetoric, get him or get gotten.
Dr David Kelly, a leading expert in such weapons, would have surely backed up Tonys claim – only he was no longer with us. But the course for war was clear-cut.
But some were confused. Clare Short, the thin-lipped cabinet minister, threatened to resign over an invasion of Iraq. So too did Robin Cook.
The difference was that Cook did resign, while Short held on (only to carry out her threat a month and a half later) and George Galloway, MP for Baghdad West, was expectorated from the Labour Party.
The war was producing some terrific victories before it had even begun. How we cheered!
And if any of us were still in doubt as to the validity of an assault on Iraq, George Bush had a few more words for us.
The war on terror, he said, involves Saddam Hussein because of the nature of Saddam Hussein, the history of Saddam Hussein, and his willingness to terrorize himself.
It was time for action! It was time to save the people of Iraq from a despot and Saddam from himself.
But how to go about it? Thankfully, Tony Blair had a few ideas that might have been of his own making.
Our ultimate weapon is not our guns but our beliefs, said Tony which was lucky since time would prove that the British Armed Forces were pretty short of firearms and such fighting stuff.
Ours are not Western values. They are the universal values of the human spirit and anywhere, any time, ordinary people are given the chance to choose, the choice is the same. Freedom not tyranny. Democracy not dictatorship.
The rule of law not the rule of the secret police. The spread of freedom is the best security for the free. It…is…our…last…line…of…defence…and…our…first…line…of…attack.
Ex…ter…min…ate!
Ex…ter…min…ate!
Ex…ter…min…ate!
So armed with Western values of freedom and democracy, we bombed the crap out of Saddam, routed the local militia and took control.
But one thing was missing from the parade (which was also, incidentally, bombed by the guerrilla forces) – where was Saddam?
And where, for that matter, was Osama bin Laden? And, as so many suicide bombers are presumably now asking themselves: Where are the virgins?
Happily, Saddam is now back among the living, having been found hiding in a compact and bijou eight-feet deep hole hidden beneath a rug, bricks and dirt.
Sadly, Osama was not with him.
But we are sure that the world is a safer place than ever it was. And its fitting that the man who made it possible should have the last word.
Over to you, George Bush: ”See, free nations are peaceful nations. Free nations don’t attack each other. Free nations don’t develop weapons of mass destruction.”
Any questions?’
Posted: 23rd, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Thinking Outside The Xmas Box
”TIS the season to be jolly, but as the papers remind us, it is also the season to be socially responsible.
| ”No job too big or too small” |
And that doesn’t just mean limiting your total holiday alcohol consumption to the amount found in a pilot’s pre-flight cocktail.
It means doing your bit – and the papers today are full of it.
The Times reports that the Bishop of Salisbury has threatened to withhold blessings from members of his flock unless they volunteer to do good works in the neighbourhood and make financial contributions to the church.
The paper also reports that the Manchester Dogs’ Home has reversed the traditional motto that a dog is for life and not just for Christmas.
It is encouraging people to take in homeless dogs over Christmas.
Not only will this alleviate the overcrowding at the home, but it may also encourage householders permanently to adopt their temporary companions.
Meanwhile the Independent tells how John Bird, the founder of the Big Issue magazine, has launched a seasonal attack on the ”dependency culture” by suggesting that homeless humans should be forced to work in return for state benefits.
All very interesting, and original too in some ways. But what society really needs is the kind of mind that can think outside the Christmas box.
Fortunately, we at Anorak are blessed in abundance with such imagination.
Might we venture a humble suggestion of our own? If Salisbury’s churchgoers were to take in the homeless – both human and canine – they would then receive the blessing that was until now their right.
Then, with a righteous Christian heart, they could set them to work.
There’s always a paper or a pair of slippers to be fetched and, when they aren’t fetching and carrying, the dogs can work off their excess energy in an ergonomically sound fashion by running on treadmills in order to power domestic generators.
Street persons can bring Christmas cheer by reviving the old tradition of domestic service – in return for state benefits and a feast of seasonal leftovers once they have cooked, served and washed up the household lunch.
Anorak has been operating a pilot scheme for some years, and, although one of the unemployed pilots was sacked for helping himself to the sherry, it was, on balance, a great success.’
Posted: 23rd, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Courting Controversy
”’THERE have been occasions when people have been asked to leave because they have had too much to drink,” admits Doug Noon, the superintendent at the Royal Courts of Justice.
| Scales of justice by day, turntables by night |
”I think there is a dividing line between enjoying yourself when the amount of drink is too much and they become too loud and cause problems for other people.”
Well, no-one disapproves of a drunken judge more than us, but we can’t help feeling that Mr Noon is being a little harsh on the old boys. It is, after all, the festive season, is it not?
And after all, it’s not as if they’re rampaging about like a bunch of airline pilots on a stag night.
Turns out that Noon is not referring to milords at all, but to the unwelcome intrusion of modern economics upon the previously impenetrable world of the judiciary.
The Independent reports that the baroque courts in the Strand have become ”the hottest venue in town, bringing in £150,000 in desperately needed fees”.
Of course, £150,000 can buy quite a lot: a new wig, a decent-ish case of claret, to name but two things that may or may not be desperately needed.
Fortunately, the courts operate what the Indy calls a ”no riff-raff” policy.
All the same, these parties are a damned nuisance, and the paper says that security guards have had to eject drunken guests on at least three occasions.
The beaks are understandably put out by this unwelcome and disagreeable intrusion, but what can they do?
Lord Justice Mance, who is responsible for the Courts building, sets the scene starkly.
”At the end of the day,” he says, ”the Treasury must accept the fact that civil justice will never pay for itself. This is particularly true of the Royal Courts of Justice.
”It is no good muddling along from year to year and crisis to crisis. We need to achieve clearly defined long-term plans for the development of our court system.”
Phase one of this plan – a leisure complex complete with Garfunkels steak house and justice-themed amusement park is due to start in 2005, as soon as the main buildings can be demolished and prefab structures erected for use as court rooms.’
Posted: 23rd, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Silky Skills
‘THE late Peter Carter-Ruck, who died on Friday, was Britain’s most famous – or infamous – libel lawyer.
| ”If that’s justice, I’m a banana” |
His aggressive approach made him the scourge of publications such as Private Eye, whose editor Ian Hislop remarked that Carter-Ruck’s name rhymed with what editors usually said when they opened a letter from the great man.
The Guardian runs an article by a former colleague, David Hooper, who describes his old partner as ”a chancer out for maximum fees” – high praise, coming from a fellow silk, and words which Carter-Ruck would doubtless have happily allowed to grace his own gravestone.
Elsewhere, Hooper observes, as many have others have done down the years, that ”one man’s defamation is another man’s restriction of freedom of speech” – a reference, presumably, to the way that Carter-Ruck’s reputation as a friend of the rich and powerful had an intimidating effect on nervous publishers.
Hooper says that he ”did for freedom of speech what the Boston Strangler did for door-to-door salesmen”.
In which case, we await with keen anticipation the Hollywood biopic and a nine-minute tribute song from Sir Mick and his Rollin’ Stones.’
Posted: 23rd, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
A Mute Point
‘AFTER three years in charge of the fractious bunch of misfits, miscreants and Miss Whiplashes that these days constitute the Tory Party, the volume was finally turned right down on The Quiet Man this year.
| We apologise for the loss of sound… |
But uncharacteristically Iain Duncan Smith left with more of a bang than a whimper, threatening variously to shoot the Prime Minister, to fix the people plotting to depose him and to write another novel as he simultaneously lost his job and his sanity.
Eventually, the required 25 Tory MPs (being no less than 100% of the Parliamentary party) felt sorry enough for their lame duck leader to write the necessary letters to have him put out of his misery.
And so IDS returned to obscurity, where in fact he had spent all but the last two weeks of the previous couple of years, and the Tory Party unveiled yet another new leader as the face of a modern, dynamic and relevant political force.
And who could be more modern, dynamic and relevant than 62-year-old Michael Howard, architect of the poll tax, a former Home Secretary memorably described by Ann Widdecombe as having something of the night about him and a man incapable of answering the question, Did you threaten to overrule him?
”We are all crew on what, at its best, is the most superb campaigning vessel politics has ever known,” Howard told his colleagues in the immediate aftermath of his unopposed election as leader.
Unfortunately, having repeatedly been holed below the waterline, the vessel has started very much to resemble a barbed wire canoe and the Tories predicament a certain malodorous creek.
Still, its nothing that a new paddle cant sort out.
No year can go by without mention of the Liberal Democrats and so, having dome our annual duty, we move onto the third major opposition party Old Labour.
Prime Minister Tony Blair has now seen off three leaders of the Opposition, which is more than Thatcher managed during her eight decades in power, but he has been having a bit more trouble seeing off his Chancellor of the Exchequer.
The Tories having provided such inept opposition over the past six years, the Labour Party has decided to show them what theyre doing wrong with Blair facing opposition from his next-door neighbour in Downing Street as well as from a growing number of back-benchers.
However, it is not just the body politic that ails Blair, but his own ailing body. While Gordon Brown was siring children and (to our collective horror) smiling, Blair was having all manner of heart attacks, stomach aches and empathy pains.
What the final result of the Hutton Inquiry will do to our now-too-mortal leader, Heaven (and its branch office at No.10) only knows.
The inquiry was set up specifically to look into the circumstances leading up to the death of an MoD scientist Dr David Kelly, who apparently killed himself after his name was leaked to the Press as the source of a BBC story into the Governments claim that Saddam Hussein and his many doubles were personally on their way over to Britain to murder us all in our sleep.
Although neither the BBC nor, if truth be told, Dr Kelly has emerged from the inquiry with much credit, it is the Government that is likely to suffer most from the outcome, especially if Blair can be shown to have lied about his role in the naming of Dr Kelly.
Howard, Brown, Hutton, the Grim Reaper… The sharks are gathering.’
Posted: 23rd, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Hour Of Need
‘THERE’S nothing new about checking into a hotel for half an hour in the middle of the day.
| Mr Smidge and Miss Robinson get 40 winks |
Certain establishments were making a good living from this sort of arrangement in the days when a succession of furtive-looking couples would sign themselves in as ”Mr and Mrs Smith”.
But the latest initiative in short-stop service is altogether more open and unapologetic.
For some time, selected motels in the Travelodge chain have been offering half-hour £5 ”catnap and coffee” breaks for what the Independent calls ”tired motorists”.
These have proved so popular that the offer is being extended across the entire chain, and the time has been increased to an hour, followed by a wake-up call.
”We were amazed at how well our initiative was received,” said a spokesman.
We can confirm this from our own observations. Such is the demand, that many tired motorists appeared to be doubling-up with complete strangers.
And in the case of Mr Reg Smidge of the Imperial Paper Clip Company of West Bromwich, the effects of his catnap and coffee with Miss Ruth Robinson, his young-at-heart secretary of 34 years’ standing, seemed positively miraculous.
And if you are reading this Mr Smidge, then treat this as a bonus ”wake-up call”, courtesy of Anorak – the website that is proud to call itself the nation’s moral guardian.’
Posted: 22nd, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Just Say No
‘ONCE upon a time, when someone turned down an honour it was big news, and there was something of an outcry.
| Doris was a disappointing Widow Twanky |
John Lennon even managed to cause trouble twice: first by accepting his MBE (”honour is cheapened,” claimed one decorated RAF man), and then by returning it to the Queen in a brown envelope as a protest against events in Biafra and Vietnam, and the poor performance of his latest single.
Now it is so common that the papers can no longer focus on individual cases.
Instead they publish a long list of refuseniks, which, in the case of a paper such as the Guardian, is presented almost like a roll of honour.
Reasons for declining vary, but most are for reasons of modesty or misguided republicanism.
Sometimes the latter bunch gets a bit bolshy, and it is sad to see the press providing a soap box for some of the more extreme views.
Worst of all is the writer Doris Lessing, a serial offender who turned down an OBE in 1977 and didn’t wish to become a dame in 1993, because the title sounded ”too pantomimy”.
Today’s Telegraph publishes her further thoughts.
”I couldn’t be bothered,” she says. ”People make much too much fuss about all this. I didn’t want to be a dame because I thought it was silly.”
Fellow writer Michael Frayn believes that ”the entire population should be dukes, knights, dames or CBEs or whatever they would like to be”.
This would have the advantage of uniting the nation, but it is unlikely to work, given its emphasis on old-fashioned titles.
What we need is something that everyone can identify with – and former BBC political correspondent John Cole, as ever, has his finger on the pulse.
He tells the Guardian that ”Britain suffers dreadfully from an addiction to snobbery”.
Suffering and addiction. What better banner under which to march forward into the new millennium?’
Posted: 22nd, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Happily Ever After
‘WHERE would the newspapers be without scientific surveys?
| A life of misery |
Barely a day goes by without the publishing of new ”findings”, all carefully moulded by our journalistic friends to fulfil the demands of their editors’ voracious appetites.
Today we are told in all papers – but let’s take the Independent, because it’s nice and light in its new tabloid format – that men are happiest when they are ”serial monogamists”.
This means ”a succession of faithful relationships but never getting married”.
The research was carried out by the University of London. No doubt they are correct, if their remit is to evaluate the personal arrangements of that much-maligned figure, our old friend ”the man on the Clapham omnibus”.
Or ”the man in the street”, if you prefer. Or ”the man on the streets”, if you want to be all modern and ‘with it’ about it.
Or the ”regular Joe”, if you are reading this in America – or are an American reading it somewhere else.
Anyway, the point is that for most men this is as good as it gets, and represents the best to which they can aspire.
But we here at Anorak have been experimenting with alternative forms of living for many years, and have arrived at what we humbly believe to be the ideal domestic arrangement.
A small, select group of confirmed bachelors, living and working in traditional surroundings, and enjoying the company of other men in a wholesome and uncomplicated relationship based on mutual respect and good manners.
Nirvana? Well we don’t like to brag, but that doesn’t sound far off the mark.
The mental effects of this agreeable state of affairs can be seen every day in our wise and unbiased coverage of the great events of the day.
This of course is its own reward, but many of us have also received the call to the palace to collect gongs of various hues.
As yet, no-one has felt the need to decline the invitation.’
Posted: 22nd, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Honour Them Now!
‘ANORAK prides itself on offering a conflict-free environment for all staff.
| ”I know I should have done my Christmas shopping earlier” |
By and large, it is an agreeable world in which to while away the 70 or 80 years that most employees spend here.
The chairs are made of comfortable leather, the desks are fashioned from top-quality mahogany, the tea is served in the finest china cups, and the company uniform (shirt, cravat, cardigan, brogues and elasticated ComfiSlax) is easy on the both the eye and the post-prandial waistline.
Occasionally, however, this industrious idyll is threatened by internal strife.
Usually this can be dealt with by the company’s team of expert counsellors and workplace facilitators. Sometimes, however, things go too deep for that.
The recent Rugby World Cup was a case in point. In some offices, the floorboards shook under the strain of stamping feet, and eardrums popped at the deafening strains of ”If I Were the Marrying Kind (Which Thank the Lord I’m Not, Sir!)”
In other parts of the building the only sign of life was the occasional groan of anticipation as yet another England fixture loomed.
Still, it only lasted eight weeks, and now that the parade has come and gone, we can put it behind us and resume normal service. Or can we?
The announcement of a series of commemorative stamps brought the matter to a head.
Those with no desire to lick the backside of Jonny Wilkinson were understandably distraught at the thought of having to do so every time they sent a letter.
The rest couldn’t wait for the chance. But now the Royal Mail has said that the original designs have been changed, and will not depict the players and fans.
Anything that prevents children being needlessly frightened is welcome of course, but that isn’t the reason for the change of plan, according to the Independent.
The real reason, as every keen philatelist knows, is that apart from the reigning monarch, only dead people are allowed on UK stamps.
This leaves two options for those who wish to see King Jonny on their envelopes.
1: An insurrection, with Wilkinson installed on the throne. This would divide the country on both constitutional and rugby grounds.
2: Anorak’s humble suggestion. The victorious team is honoured posthumously at the earliest possible opportunity, to the delight of everybody.
Once again, our unique brand of common sense prevails where others have stumbled and fallen.’
Posted: 19th, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Money Isn’t Everything
‘JONATHAN Bradshaw is not just a semi-namesake of Jonny Wilkinson.
| ”I spent all my money on the bike, so I couldn’t afford Anorak’s new range of hardwearing leisurewear” |
He is also an academic at the University of York, and he has been conducting research to determine what constitutes poverty in Britain today.
His findings are reported in the Times, and they make interesting reading. His conclusion certainly gives food for thought.
”The absence of a bicycle is not a sufficient reason to say someone is poor,” he argues, ”but combined with other things it could be.”
He goes on to list other absences that might indicate reduced circumstances, such as shoes, furniture, two ha’pennies to rub together, and so on.
And he is right of course – if you don’t have an oily rag to call your own, then how can you live off the smell of it?
On the other hand, money isn’t everything. What does life hold for the millionaire, surrounded by bicycles but denied the laughter of a tiny child or the wet nose of a puppy?
And rich is the man who, though his feet are bare and his clothes are in rags, is gifted by God with a dozen children and six wild dogs – all with healthy appetites.
Happiest of all is the man who, by dint of his innate good taste and good business sense, kits himself out in Anorak’s famous range of affordable hardwearing leisurewear (now including pyjamas and fur-lined boots) and enjoys – FREE OF CHARGE – the daily delights of our wonderful website.’
Posted: 19th, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
No Place Like Home
”’HE tumbled down stairs, rolled on barrels and even rode a scooter in his cub days,” reports the Times.
| ”An old boot. How I miss Richard and Judy!” |
We know how he feels. But the cub in question is not a cub reporter, but an American black bear called Fred.
He is the last circus bear in Britain, and is now about to retire to the Bear With Us sanctuary in Ontario, Canada, where life is about as good as it gets for bears of a certain age.
He won’t have a bicycle there, but there will be compensations.
”He’ll even have his own swimming pool,” says Phillip Linbury of the World Society For The Protection Of Animals, who sorted out Fred’s new gaff.
It all sounds grand, and we wish Fred well. But at the back of our minds, we can’t help wondering if it’s really for the best.
Sure he’ll have trees, and pools, and bins full of discarded hamburgers in the local town. But from time to time he’ll sit down and reflect on his old life.
He’ll remember his owner. Mr Mackie, and the 10ft by 30ft wagon he used to call home.
He’ll remember waking to the smell of a full English breakfast on a cold morning, with GMTV followed by Kilroy on the telly.
He’ll think of Jonny Wilkinson, Tony Blair, Sir Mick Jagger and Ben Elton. And he’ll say to himself: ”I didn’t know how lucky I was.”
Count your blessings, those of you lucky enough to live in this dear old country of ours.
And any foreigners reading this – don’t even think about it. We’re an overcrowded little island as it is, and our tolerant nature is being tested to the limit.’
Posted: 19th, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Phil Your Boots
‘THE message is simple – if you want to get ahead in the Tory party, then you should get a new name – Philip.
| ”You can call me Phil” |
Research by the Fawcett Society has found that three Philips have been selected to fight one of the party’s top 20 target seats in the next election, compared with only two women (neither of whom are called Philip – or even Phyllis or Phyllida).
”This is an appalling record for a party that is keen to modernise,” Laura Turquet, policy officer for the equality campaign group, tells the Times.
”The political landscape has changed since 1992 and the electorate now expect to see MPs from a range of backgrounds.”
And with a whole range of names.
Consider Philip, for instance. The political track record of Philips is quite abysmal – the last person with such a name to hold a Cabinet post was Philip Snowdon in the 1920s.
But intense lobbying by The Philip Society is just now beginning to bear fruit.
The Times points out that, although there are no Philips in the Cabinet, Tony Blair’s polling guru is Philip Gould and the Deputy Commons Leader is one Philip Woolas.
And, on the Tories’ side, Philip Hammond has reached the dizzy heights of junior local government spokesman.
But it is no good the rest of us bleating about the success of Philips; if we want greater representation, we need to fight for it.
For instance, the Labour party established a number of women-only shortlists in the run-up to the 1997 election – and the number of Blair Babes increased as a result.
If you feel your name is underrepresented in the House Of Commons, then get off your well-upholstered backside and do something about it.
We at Anorak, for instance, have long been appalled at the lack of Torquils in the Conservative Party.
But having failed to get Torquil-only shortlists, we have at least managed to persuade Michael Howard that at least 5% of all winnable seats should be reserved for men with this nomenclature.
We suggest you do the same with your name of choice.’
Posted: 18th, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Every Dog Has Its Day
‘BRITAIN is a multicultural society – or so we are told every day in one of the country’s 17 official languages.
| Rover had already mastered German and was now learning French” |
And nowhere is that more true than in the kennel, where dogs bark at each other in every idiom under the sun – except one.
That’s right – in this canine Tower Of Babel, the good old British bark is being drowned out by a cacophony of yaps, yelps and whines from Fido Foreigner.
Official figures from the Kennel Club show that dog-lovers are turning their back on the British pooch in favour of its foreign cousins.
And the result, says the Guardian, is that breeds such as the King Charles spaniel and the cardigown corgi could soon be extinct.
Expert Jeremy Hunt says the popularity of certain dogs is driven by fashion – the long coat of the afghan hound was perfect for the hippy 60s, while the menacing Rottweiler summed up the 1980s.
”The continued demand for self-protection has fired interest in breeds offering the ‘wow’ factor in terms of looks, combined with sheer size, strength and attitude,” he says.
”The list of these canine heavyweights is a long one and it has started a trend that now seems almost unstoppable.”
In other words, it’s only a matter of time before the timeless virtues incorporated by the great British Bulldog are replaced with the more slippery charms of the Neapolitan Mastiff.
Unless of course we call them all Philip and give them a safe Tory seat…’
Posted: 18th, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
Testing Testing
‘THERE are two ways to improve test results – one is to perform better, the other is to lower the pass mark.
| Britain in 2006 |
The trouble about the first one is that it often requires a lot of hard work, and it is really not worth the time and trouble when the second option is so much easier.
So, we congratulate the Government for not wasting our money and our children’s time trying to improve their reading and writing skills, but instead fiddling the official figures.
The Telegraph says an official inquiry has backed its claim that the pass mark in English was lowered by seven points in May 1999 to increase the number of people meeting the required standard.
Such is the success of this scheme that there are claims that Alan Milburn, when he was Health Secretary, used a similar wheeze to boost the star rating of Tony Blair’s local hospital.
And, in the Times, we hear that the pass mark for speed cameras is also to be reduced, thereby increasing the number of us who will be fined next year to three million from only 1.1 million in 2001.
If the policy is a success, by 2007 there should be only three people in the whole country with valid driving licences, thereby leaving thousands of miles of open road to be enjoyed by John Prescott and his many Jags.’
Posted: 18th, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
The Lost Sheep
‘THERE shall be more joy in Heaven over one sinner that repents than over 99 righteous persons who do not need to repent. (Luke 15:7)
| ”I’ll be painting the town red” |
Dont worry we havent had a Damascene conversion overnight and you havent logged onto the wrong website.
We are just sharing in the public rejoicing at the news that Red (Light) Ken Livingstone is to be readmitted into the Labour party.
Prime Minister Tony Blair no doubt mindful of the parable of the lost sheep – is the driving force behind the move, which the Telegraph variously calls a high-risk strategy and a calculated gamble.
But not all the righteous persons are happy about the repentance of this particular sinner.
The Guardian says senior party figures, such as John Prescott and Gordon Brown, remain resolutely opposed to Livingstones rehabilitation.
The deputy prime minister has apparently warned colleagues (or comrades, as they so touchingly used to be called) not to assume that it is a done deal.
Whatever its reservations about the London mayor, the Guardian concludes that the decision to readmit him is the correct one, even suggesting that the Labour party needs Livingstone rather more than he needs them.
The rest of us, though, need the two of them back together, it says, not just for Londons sake, but the sake of centre-left politics more generally.
The Telegraph, by contrast, says the decision smacks of desperation and wonders what will happen if Livingstone fails to get re-elected, despite having Labours endorsement.
Perhaps even more worrying for Labour, it says, is what Mr Livingstone might be like if he wins.
Red Ken has been a thorn in the side of successive Labour leaderships for as long as anyone can remember.
Yes, but for a Prime Minister who is at home wearing a whole crown of thorns, a small prick like Livingstone will make little difference.’
Posted: 17th, December 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment
