Train Of Thought

‘BING! Bong! ‘We are sorry for the delay in the departure of this article. Due to circumstances beyond our control, customers are asked to reread the previous piece and change at paragraph three.’

Can a train that never stops ever be late?

Sorry. We hope you understand that the wrong kind of mouse has contravened Rule 8, Sub-section Work-shy Bastard of the Anorak Code, causing a mass walk-out by the technical department.

We hope to have things back to normal before very long and do appreciate your patience.

And already plans are afoot to stop it happening again. We’ve taken a leaf from the book run by the train operator Connex, and reproduced in the Independent.

In order to improve reliability and punctuality, Connex is cutting 40 services a day into London. This will also ease congestion, which we are sure you agree is a very good thing.

Customers are advised to wait until 2009, when the track will be clear of all trains and the Government’s integrated transport policy will have fixed the vending machine on platform 6 at Clapham Junction.

Never ones to step in the path of progress, we’re going to end this here.

This article will finish on time, come hell or high’

Posted: 3rd, September 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Doing Bird

‘FOOTBALLERS have fans, anoraks have enthusiasts, the Sun has paedophiles on every park bench and parrots have fanciers.

The parrot who sang like a canary

And the parrot fancier of the day, the champion among this niche demographic is Lee Gardiner, a man who makes the cover of today’s Times, along with a shameless photograph of an Amazona aestiva, a South American Amazon parrot of no known name.

The paper finds no evidence that shots of parrots have been circulated via the Internet, and no fading pop star or TV light-entertainer has been taken into custody.

This is the story of one sick obsessive who worked alone.

Lee Gardiner is his name, and yesterday Maidstone Crown Court heard how, while working as a banker, he transferred money from elderly and disabled clients into his own account in order to fund his passion for rare birds.

Most ingrate bankers and City types’ idea of an exotic bird is catching Ukrainian dancer Ogle Olga at the Tart And Filofax pub – but Gardiner likes his birds with feathers.

In all, he stole around £2.1m, spending £450,000 on tropical parrots and cockatoos and £250,000 on 20 luxury aviaries – oh, and he splashed out what was left on a fleet of high-performance cars and four homes.

It’s a shame he never found space in his diseased heart for our own domestic feathered friends. And we ask: What’s the matter, Lee, British birds not good enough for you? Snob!

Well, they’re good enough for the patriotic Guardian, which trumps the Times’ dalliance with exotica with a great tit in profile.

But don’t be surprised if you don’t see one in reality because they are dying.

The paper says that the British Trust for Ornithology have spotted that 29 of the 105 main UK bird species are in decline.

So let’s act before it’s too late.

If you see a sparrow getting into a car with a stranger or a greater spotted woodpecker taking grain from a man carrying a large net, tell the authorities immediately.

This is a cancer that must be cut out!’

Posted: 3rd, September 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Ministry Of No Defence

‘THE odds that the death of Dr David Kelly and the ensuing Hutton Inquiry will account for the political neck of Tony Blair are lengthening by the day.

The widow’s pique

What was once the BBC versus Number 10 now firmly embraces the Ministry of Defence.

Of course, as Kelly’s employer the MoD was always involved, but the doctor’s widow has just promoted its importance in the affair.

Speaking to the Inquiry, Janice Kelly is heard by the Telegraph saying how her husband had “felt totally let down and betrayed” by the mob at the MoD.

She claims that he had received assurances from his line manager and others more senior to him that his name would not be released into the public domain.

For what by all accounts was a bright and able man, this is a fatally naïve position to take.

In an era when we know what colour Cherie Blair’s knickers are (it’s Tuesday, so it’s the zebra print) and how many cars John Prescott owns, retaining anonymity in the teeth of a political storm was always going to be hard.

The story goes that the attention heaped upon him took Kelly by surprise, ate him up and led to his apparent suicide.

It’s a grim story that the Guardian picks over at length, repeating much of the evidence given by Janice yesterday.

We hear how Rupert Murdoch apparently made overtures to the pair, offering via a minion to put them up in a hotel away from the spotlight in return for an article from Dr Kelly.

We also learn that on the night of that alleged offer the Kellys were in their garden drinking coffee. It’s the preferred drink in the Kelly household, given that it is mentioned one more time, just after Janice has watered the plants.

We also learn that July 15, 2003, was the couple’s 36th wedding anniversary; how his walks usually lasted 25 minutes – although his final one took him away for considerably longer; and how on that final walk he wore jeans.

Whether this high level of excitement and sensation can be maintained only time will tell. But Tony must be a far from worried man…’

Posted: 2nd, September 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Magic Portion

‘THERE is some debate as to what constitutes a portion, as heard in the familiar medical advice “five portions of fruit and veg a day”.

Take three times a day

Is a single blueberry a portion?

If one item equates to one portion, does an entire cauliflower contain the same life-preserving qualities as a carrot, a gooseberry or a pea?

To add to the general sense of confusion, the Telegraph has learnt of new advice, which says that three pieces of the Holy Duo of fruit and veg might be enough.

Dr Demosthenes Panagiotakos (which, coincidentally, is the scientific name for an elderberry) has found that there are little added health benefits between three pieces and five.

As the Doc says, “three is the cut-off point where your reach a plateau”.

But the research undertaken on 800 heart patients and 1,000 healthy adults has yet to convince everyone.

While some of us embark on a new health kick, asking for three slices of gherkin in our McFatso And Cheese, the British Heart Foundation still recommends five pieces, while the Australians recommend a whopping six.

Which means that, by our quick fag packet calculation, Australians should live for twice as long as the average Greek – unless the hole in the ozone, the spiders and the isolation get to them first…’

Posted: 2nd, September 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

May The Force Be With You!

‘GOOD news now for amputees who want to drive. The Times says that those wily Japanese have invented a car that parks itself.

‘And it’s got no road tax, warden!’

The pain of looking over your shoulder as you reverse into that people carrier and knock into the old boy with his shopping trolley (“Oi granddad! Meals On Wheels not good enough for you?”) might be a thing of the past.

The Toyota Prius is the beginning of a new era in motoring, it says here.

As the Times goes on to say, this car will run on a combination of electricity and petrol and contain those amazing sensors that allow it to park itself.

But the problem remains how to prevent others from bumping into your new car.

Thankfully, a boy genius down our way says that the car’s electrical components can be rewired to charge your spotless new vehicle with an electronic forcefield. Anything within two inches of the paintwork will be burnt to a cinder.

Just think of the fun when the parking warden goes to put his ticket on your windscreen.

Now that’s progress…’

Posted: 2nd, September 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Annie Get Your Gun

‘NO matter how little happens, how much remains in a state of impoverished decay, Tony Blair raises his hands up and points to tomorrow when everything will be just groovy and cool.

Spin on this

You imagine our Tone walking into the Hutton Inquiry with the sounds of little Orphan Annie in his head: “When I’m stuck with a day that’s grey and lonely, I just stick out my chin and grin, and say, ‘Oh, the sun’ll come out tomorrow…’”

And tomorrow is a brave new dawn when, as the Independent says, Tone will announce plans to end the culture of spin and stave off accusations that he is too presidential – a “one-man band” – by giving back powers to Cabinet ministers.

A Downing Street aide tells the paper what we can expect tomorrow.

“He [Tone] now accepts that his relationship with his Cabinet is more important than he realised. He acknowledges that he has not invested as much time with ministers as he should.”

In other words, he’s up to his neck in the brown stuff and he wants his team to protect him.

And that’s a cue for his old mucker (or muckraker) Peter Mandelson to mastermind this new Government strategy, where blame is shared equally between all the Cabinet members, although Tony, as we know, will take full responsibility.

The Telegraph seizes on the re-emergence of the man who is credited with being “the inventor of the Labour spin machine” with the headline: “Mandelson to direct Labour spin.”

But no spin is the new spin, which surely means that Mandelson will direct nothing. In essence, he will do nothing.

Although Tony will take full responsibility should nothing turn into something…’

Posted: 1st, September 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

2020 Vision

‘WHAT’S black and white and red all over? A sunburnt penguin in 2020. (Times might change but the best gags are always hilarious.)

‘I’m so proud of you, I could puke’

The Guardian tells us that the earth is warmer than it has been at any time in the past 2,000 years. Which makes us wonder what things will like in 17 years’ time.

This is not an idle time period, as the Times already has a vision of life in 2020, preparing a Rich List of the movers and shakers of that era.

Now young and full of vigour, tomorrow’s fat and slow high earners are profiled in a list from one to twenty. And top of the pile is 19-year-old Carl Churchill.

The Rich List 2020 says that this teeneged founder of some Internet company will be worth £100m. Which is only what a great guy like Carl deserves. As is the £50m earned by actress Keira Knightly, who is truly magnificent.

A special mention must be made of Adam Hildreth (£40m) who left school at 16 to found Dubit “a youth marketing company”.

It’s hard to dislike Adam, who like Anorak, aims at a young, vibrant demographic. (Advertising rates on application, Adam.)

And we will all love footballer Wayne Rooney (£25m) and William Felix, who set up Felix Mowers (£5m) in February and has a passion for renovating vintage tractors.

The truly surprising thing is that the list finds no place for Euan Blair, who will surely be worth a pretty penny when Bristol Property Discounts floats on the stock market.

Unless he’s already moved to New Jerusalem with mum and dad…’

Posted: 1st, September 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

The Great Shark Hunt

‘WE’VE seen tomorrow and peered at what 2020 holds in store and now we learn that in years to come a fish could be the leader of the Labour Party’s PR department.

‘I have never had sex with Monica Lewinsky’

The Times has read a joint report from scientists at the universities of Edinburgh, Leeds and St Andrews and learnt that fish are “cunning, manipulative, cultured and socially aware”.

Could then a guppy Peter Mandelson rise to prominence in political circles?

Could a carp lead the world into peace, dismantling the nefarious Reef of Evil formed by those devilish pike, trout and herring?

The team write in the journal Fish & Fisheries, a think tank of political intrigue, that the image of fish as being dumb is gone.

“Now, fish are regarded as steeped in social intelligence, pursuing Machiavellian strategies of manipulation, punishment and reconciliation, exhibiting stable cultural traditions, and co-operating to inspect predators and catch food,” they write.

And unlike Tony Blair and his shoal, they don’t leave a nasty taste in the mouth. Looks like Tone’s had his chips…’

Posted: 1st, September 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

No More Mr Nice Regular Sort of Guy

‘“BLAIR: I take full responsibility,” announces the Telegraph.

No sweat for Blair this time round

And, as is Tony’s way, he has indeed taken full responsibility. Responsibility for doing the right thing. Responsibility for taking tough decisions. Responsibility, in short, for being a damn fine leader.

As he says, history will be his judge, and it will judge him to be right.

Of course, there are critics. That, as Tony says, is only right and proper. But the critics are wrong, and he is right. Not that the critics have much to say.

The Times complains that at the Hutton enquiry yesterday, “we saw a new side of Tony Blair”. This Tony is “cold and unfeeling”, and “unwilling to express regret about the events leading up to the death of David Kelly”.

Some of us here at Anorak don’t much care for the usual Mr Blair – described acidly by the Times as “the pretty straight kind of guy that we have come to know and love”. In fact, he tends to make us retch.

We don’t know how long the new Tony will be around, but, like the current rainy spell after a long hot summer, we find it rather refreshing.’

Posted: 29th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Patent Nonsense

‘REMEMBER the Cheating Major? No, not Major Hewitt, the other one… You know, the “Who Wants To Be a Millionaire?” scammer? Yeah, the coughing one: Major… er…

‘Can I phone a Fisherman’s Friend?’

Ah, yes, here we are, it’s in the Telegraph. Major Charles Ingram. But the paper’s story isn’t about him.

It’s about his accomplice – the college lecturer bloke who actually did the coughing. Apparently he has registered his name with the patent office.

Why has he done this? To stop cough sweet manufacturers using his name. He thinks this would be exploitative, and he’s “not having that”.

Usually companies like to use names with a high recognition factor, or at the very least, names that can be recognised after a bit of memory jogging.

The Cheating Major would probably work. But how many of us would recognise the name of… er… Tecwen Whittock?

Oh well, Tecwen can dream. Crazy name, crazy guy.’

Posted: 29th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Sad Song

‘THERE’S trouble brewing down under.

Australia – World Champion Sheep Shearing Champions for a record thirtieth straight year

First the Australians had to come to terms with their defeat by the English rugger team, which was a major blow. As we have discussed before, the Australians are careful to concentrate on sports like cricket and rugger, which only a handful of countries play.

As an additional bonus, these are sports which are restricted in England to fringe elements such as in-bred upper-class oddballs and a few other misfits. This means that the Aussies can beat England and wave their inflatable ’roos excitedly, deluding themselves that they are a great sporting race.

Anyway, not only are they facing the prospect of failing to lift the rugger World Cup on home soil this year, but to make things worse, they can’t even use their traditional tune, “Waltzing Matilda”, before their matches.

Instead, they will have to endure the unpopular “Advance Australia Fair” – an anthem described by the Independent as a “stilted, austere song” whose words are unfamiliar to most of the population. (Serves them right for ditching “God Save The Queen”.)

Of course, things may not be quite as bad as they fear. Australia will probably not progress very far in the tournament, so the crowds won’t have to hear the song very often.

And England will probably win it, allowing plenty of opportunity to hear an infinitely superior anthem: “Jerusalem”, “God Save the Queen”, “Eskimo Nell” or “Candle in the Wind” – whichever is chosen by the rugger committee chaps in their infinite wisdom.’

Posted: 29th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Paying For The Shirt

‘YES, we are well aware that Tony Blair is due to be “grilled” today.

Gooaaaalllll!!!!

However, we share Number 10’s view that it is inappropriate and unhelpful to talk about the Hutton enquiry until after it has fully vindicated the People’s Prime Minister.

Instead, we ask a more pressing question. What is to be done about the menace of Cardiff City football shirts?

You may, with some justification, say that there is nothing surprising about today’s story in The Times, which reports that a young boy was taken to hospital in Swansea after sustaining serious injuries while wearing the aforesaid blue nylon number.

After all, the local boyos don’t take kindly to City fans, and are not averse to a bit of the rough stuff.

But in this case, the damage was caused in more alarming fashion. 13-year-old Sam Borley’s replica top created sufficient static electricity to spark an explosion in a leaking gas cooker on a catamaran.

The boat was blown to pieces, and young Sam suffered serious burns, as did his dad Terry. Pet dog Alfie was unhurt – no doubt thanks to his flame-resistant Anorak leisure coat (price £3.99, available from the usual address or from any god pet shop).

Cardiff chairman Sam Hamman would have done this sort of thing as a practical joke in his Crazy Gang days, but his new club is obviously a more responsible place.

Sam’s uncle Steve is vice-chairman of Cardiff City.

He held his hands up and admitted that he was “pretty sure” that the shirt had caused the explosion.

There is no suggestion, however, that Dr Kelly was investigating these shirts in the months leading up to his untimely death.’

Posted: 28th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Rock of Ages (45 to 70)

‘YESTERDAY we brought you news of the latest list of the best TV programmes of all time.

‘Do you know Devil Woman?’ You humm it – and we’ll smash yer face in…’

Today, the Independent brings us the best guitarists in history, courtesy of a well-known American rock journal.

Bet you can’t guess them. At number ten, it’s Manuel Manirez, a sixteenth century minstrel from Valencia. At nine, it’s Tony Blair, the front man of Oxford’s legendary Ugly Rumours…

Oh, well, we can dream.

In fact, the list is entirely drawn from the 20th century blues-rock tradition, and will be familiar to readers of Q, Mojo, Uncut, Classic Rock,Rock Gold, Senior Rock Musician, Mature Music Fan, Guitar Weekly, Noodler’s Digest, Machine Head Monthly, Rock Bore, Blues Bore, Rhythm’n’Snooze, and other like-minded titles, too numerous to list here.

And, to put you out of your suspense, the winner is…

Well, you’ll just have to buy this month’s Rolling Stone. (Clue: it’s NOT Eric Clapton!)’

Posted: 28th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

A National Disgrace

‘STOP press. The Citizen Audit has just been published. Never heard of it? Neither have we, but then we don’t frequent the corridors of power, where this sort of thing is considered pretty important.

The Perfects

The survey is funded by the Economic and Social Research Council, and the Telegraph reports that in the course of studying 12,000 people in 101 local authority areas, it has arrived at a template for the “model citizen”.

She is a middle-aged woman in a managerial or professional occupation, remained in full-time education until at least the age of 19, and is “a selective television watcher”.

“Bad” citizens, on the other hand, “have no respect for the law” and “do not want to be involved in society”. You know – the sort who didn’t vote for Tony Blair and never wash behind their ears.

Prof Patrick Seyd, who co-led the project is worried by this growing “disaffected group”. He believes they “could be prey to the attentions of populist politicians”.

And that would be terrible, wouldn’t it, children?’

Posted: 28th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

What’s Up Doc?

‘WHEN you rush out to buy all 378 episodes of Dr Who on DVD, don’t be surprised if there are a few “extra features”.

In every Dalek there’s a pervert with a camera dying to stay hidden

(Note to Dr Who fans: please don’t write in and tell us that there weren’t 378 episodes – we don’t care.)

Furthermore, these extras may not be all be documentaries about the inside of a Dalek, or picture galleries of location shots and costume designs.

Instead, brace yourself for grainy footage of nude ladies in the bathroom of a doctor’s house in Gosforth, Newcastle upon Tyne.

The good doctor – Dr Peter Finklestone, to be precise – filmed the ladies covertly, and the Telegraph reports that he kept them on a master tape “for his own amusement”.

So what has this got to do with the legendary TV series? Well it transpires that old Finky had a second job, as part of a team paid by the BBC to restore old episodes from its archive.

Given the amount of videotape knocking about his gaff, it would be surprising if a few bonus scenes were inadvertently included.

For some reason, we here at Anorak find all this rather amusing.

And if Finklestone – who has quit as a doctor – is finding it hard to see the funny side, he should take comfort from this thought – no-one will ever say, “Doctor who?” again when his name his mentioned at the local rotary club.’

Posted: 27th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

100 Best Repeats

‘THERE are few things the papers like more than those “100 greatest” polls.

‘Gis some credit’

They are a ready-made “talking point” which fill up half a page and allow the reproduction of a load of old archive pictures, usually including at least one nice deep cleavage.

Today’s cleavage is Alison Steadman’s, which immediately alerts you to the fact that Abigail’s Party is in the list, and that this must therefore be The Nation’s Best Programmes.

And just in case you were in any doubt about it, Civilisation is on the list, so it must be – even though nobody under 30 has ever seen more than a thirty-second clip of it on some “100 Greatest” show.

”From A (for Abigail) to Z (for Cars) are these the best programmes ever made?” asks the Independent. And at this point we here at Anorak must apologise to readers by rising to the bait and say: “No.” Or rather: “NO”.

In fact, make that: “Aaaaargh! NO-O-O-O-OOO!”

And, since everyone else seems to have had their two penny’s worth, here are three reasons to be getting on with.

1) Abigail’s Party is very good, but it looks like an old sitcom when compared to his brilliant Nuts In May. 2) Alan Bleasdale’s The Boys From the Blackstuff is the most over-rated programme ever, apart from his GBH. 3) And possibly The Singing Detective.

The End’

Posted: 27th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Exorcising the Scary Bits

‘IF YOU enjoyed The Exorcist, you’ll be looking forward keenly to Exorcist IV: The Beginning, the forthcoming prequel.

Linda Blair

But whereas the original film came with dire warnings about projectile vomiting and hideous bodily contortions, the new one may have to alert prospective viewers to the lack of shocks.

As it is, the Independent reports that the film company has stepped in to up the horror quotient, and ordered some scenes to be re-shot.

The film is to be released with the slogan: “God is not here”. But will the audience be?’

Posted: 27th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Fashion Crime Unearthed

‘A VERY good morning to all of you reading Anorak while on your holidays in Tuscany. And our sympathies too.

Christian soldiers’ marching boots

You will of course be used to attracting admiring glances from the local population as you stroll around in your immaculate ComfiSlax – a byword for style, available from Anorak at £19.99 for three pairs.

On the other hand, how embarrassing it can be when your compatriots let you down by wearing faded pastel t-shirts and crumpled shorts.

But we have some good news for you. The Times reports that the trademark English sandal-and-sock combo may in fact originate with the Roman settlers, rather than sight-seeing Latin masters of the mid-twentieth century.

A life-size bronze foot, dug up in London last month and dated to the second century AD, can be clearly seen to be wearing the offending item under the traditional strapped shoe, presumably as protection against the local weather, which the contemporaneous historian Tacitus described as “absolutely foul”.

The paper notes that finds of life-size Roman statuary are extremely rare. Hardly surprising, really. When Romans commit a fashion crime of this proportion, the least you can expect is a full-scale cover-up.

Of course, there is an alternative explanation. As the Italian professor Paul Soreno speculates, the foot may be the earliest example yet of English “modern” Christianity.

Ancient tambourines and Blair-like masks found in the vicinity offer strong support to this audacious theory.’

Posted: 26th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Old Jokes

‘HERE’S a good one for you. A neighbour approaches Mr Smith and says: “Say, Smith, are you using your lawnmower this afternoon?” “Yes I am,” replies Smith warily. “Oh, well, can I borrow it when you are done then?”

Killed by comedy

Good, eh? No? You didn’t think it was funny? Ah, that’s because we’ve put on the wrong ending. It should read: “Fine, you won’t be wanting your golf clubs, I’ll just borrow them.”

What’s that? You didn’t find that funny either? How old are you? Ah, well, that explains it. You’re losing your sense of humour and turning into a miserable old git.

At least, that’s the conclusion of Canadian researchers. They gave people the above gag, and asked them to choose from several possible endings. Old people had trouble picking the right one.

The participants were also given signs such as “Please have a fit upstairs” (from a tailor’s shop), and “Guests are invited to take advantage of the barmaid” (from an hotel).

In this exercise, oldies were as good as youngsters at spotting the humorous potential. Whether they found them funny or not is not revealed in the Guardian’s report.

Overall, old people found things less funny. Maybe this is because, after a lifetime of Christmas crackers, newspaper cartoons and hilarious office signs, they have simply had too much of a good thing.

Or maybe they have just lost the will to live.’

Posted: 26th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Another Martyr

‘WOULD you lay down your life to save the pound?

‘I fought the law and I won’

It’s a silly question, really. Of course you would. That’s why our jails are full of “metric martyrs” and other patriotic souls who refuse to bow down to the busybody bureaucrats of Brussels.

Now the Guardian reveals that there may be another martyr. Dr Kelly, it transpires, may have inadvertently laid down his life to save our traditional currency.

His death, and the resulting public enquiry, appears to have derailed Tony Blair’s plans to introduce the euro to these shores.

“All attempts to have a roadshow have been knocked out of the window,” says Ian Taylor, the Conservative chairman of the European movement.

No roadshow? No lip-biting and strutting from our PM, as he thrashes his Strat and yells his Euro-rock anthems?

These are dog days for Tony and no mistake.’

Posted: 26th, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

When Scientists Attack

‘IN the sport of politics a nickname can help you climb a little higher up the greasy pole.

‘I will probably be found dead in the woods”

‘Red Ken’ Livingstone, ‘Iron Lady’ Margaret Thatcher and Ronald ‘The Gipper’ Reagan have all bonded with their electorate through the use of a pally moniker.

It’s not surprising that Ali Hassan al-Majid, one of Saddam Hussein’s myriad relatives, sought one out for himself. And so Chemical Ali was born.

It is a trifle unfortunate that he earned his populist identity by poisoning people but the path to political fame is never an easy one.

Now, as the Independent reports, Chemical Ali has been captured alive by the Americans.

The paper has a neat biography of Ali, beginning with the school chemistry set he was given for his eighth birthday and following his scientific progress through a GCSE in Applied Science (A grade) right up to the deaths of 5,000 Iraqi Kurds.

Readers might be a little surprised at Ali’s arrest given that reports have told of his death at least half a dozen times over the past months.

But a man can die only once, a truth illustrated by the case of Dr David Kelly.

Kelly was never given a card in the Enemies of Good Folks deck, but if he had it might have been the joker. Thing is, the joke is either going to be on the British Government, the BBC or both.

But yesterday at the Hutton Inquiry things took a spooky turn. The Telegraph says in its headline that there were “gasps of disbelief at a death foretold”.

The Times hears evidence from David Broucher, a former Ambassador to Prague who recalls a conversation he had with David ‘Walter Mitty’ Kelly.

“As Dr Kelly was leaving, I said to him, ‘What will happen if Iraq is invaded?’ and his reply was – which I took at the time to be a throw-away remark – he said: ‘I will probably be found dead in the woods’.”

Amazing stuff. But the real fun is foreseeing what will happen next Thursday when Tony Blair takes the stand.

Will we see Phoney Tony, George’s Poodle, Bambi or a completely new man..?’

Posted: 22nd, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

House of God

‘”WARNING: church can make you ill.”

Dear Anorak, my wife doesn’t understand me and my kids are a pain…’

That’s the headline in today’s Times. And it can be added to what we already know: church can make you pregnant; church can make you irresistible to pre-teen boys and girls; and church can give you acne.

This new warning comes in the Telegraph where Irish Roman Catholics have been advised not to breathe in church. If they do, they could take in the smoke from burning incense.

Dr Jim McDaid, a transport minister in the Dublin government, argues that inhaling incense is like smoking tobacco, it contains carcinogens which damage the system.

In short, church gives you cancer.

Although before you do leave the pew for good, the Ven Geoffrey Sidaway, an Anglican, says that market stalls, discos and bingo are on their way in.

“Extending their use is a way of breathing life into our church building,” says Sidaway, who is also Archdeacon of Gloucester.

Which leads to a few more facts about church: it gives you the chance to make a few bob; and if you get a line across, diagonally or all four corners, it gives you a barely used coffin to live in until the second coming…

“House of God!” – as they shout out in a church in Gloucester’

Posted: 22nd, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Cereal Offenders

‘SINCE we all want out little loves to be individuals, special, to stand out from the rest, here’s some advice, courtesy of the Times.

Vanessa at aged 10

Before Bianca and Jack go to school, feed them up on fizzy drinks, snack bars and junk. This way, they will stand less chance of getting 15 A-grades at GCSE like all the other humdrum kids.

In simple terms, eating crap makes you stupid. It can also make you physically slow, as a team at Reading University have discovered.

Children aged between nine and 16 who ate a hearty normal breakfast of cereal behaved well in physical tests. Those who had eaten junk food were reacting at levels normally associated with a person of 70.

This is not a cause for celebration among the older fraternity, who are, we are sorry to say, still shuffling laboriously along the aisles at B&Q, but cause for concern for the young.

At least with all the preservatives in the food they eat, however, children should remain in a vegetative yet comfortable state for many decades to come…’

Posted: 22nd, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Dropping The Aitch

‘AS with the ever-widening poverty gap, there is evidence of increased daylight between the brightest and the densest school pupils.

‘I don’t know what you’ve got to laugh about, ginger’

While the Telegraph brings news that GCSE pass rates have risen again, with passes in A to C grades rising for the 15th time since the introduction of the simple exam 16 years ago, the Independent leads with another version.

“GCSE pass rate lowest for a decade,” says the paper on the morn when around 600,000 youngsters will receive their results in the post.

The paper agrees that the A to C boffins have done better than ever, but the overall pass rate of A to G fell to an appallingly low 97.6 %, down from 97.9%.

To the casual observer this might still seem a remarkably high success rate, given that failure is the only alternative to achieving a pass in exam speak.

But there are degrees of failure and the Indy estimates that this year 60,000 pupils will leave school with no qualifications.

They will have nothing to show for the years spent sat in a classroom, other than a love-bite and the ancient text book they failed to hand in when school was finally out.

But they must not be disheartened. If they do well on Pop Idol, Big Brother or any other reality TV show, they can still earn money and achieve fame.

Failing that they can always take A-levels and go to university…’

Posted: 21st, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Drugs Don’t Work?

”IF you’re not on drugs, you soon will be.”

Take three times a day before meals

The NHS are trying out a few new mottos and that’s the current hot favourite, although “You don’t have to be mad to work here, but Prozac helps” and “At least when you die you can leave” have their admirers among hospital staff.

But the name of the medics’ game is drugs and the Guardian says that soon hospitals will be trying out a new narcotic – marijuana.

The Medical Research Council (MRC) plans to spend £500,000 on a trial to see whether cannabis can relieve the pain of patients who have undergone surgery.

But the British Medical Journal, as the paper reminds readers, has published similar research in 2001. Back then synthetic cannabinoids, derived from cannabis, were tested on patients.

The researchers concluded that cannabis was no more effective than codeine in treating pain.

But leader of the MRC trial, Anita Holdcroft, is keen to point out that her tests will be conducted with the real stuff, not that synthetic old rope of yesteryear.

She then spoke for hours and hours about how the weed she gets is far better than the weed the other doctors can get before taking out a bongo drum and healing the world with her music.’

Posted: 21st, August 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment