Egg On Her Face

‘FOR years, the highlight of the school sports day has been testing the ingenuity of kids faced with carrying an egg from one end of the sports field to the other using only a spoon.

First one to get salmonella wins

The well-positioned finger to stop the egg falling off has always prompted howls of protest, but that was only because it was so easy to spot.

However, that is now all at an end for pupils of Manley School in Sutton Coldfield.

It has decided to hold a non-competitive sports day behind closed doors, with parents banned from attending.

Head Judith Wressel said: ”Taking part in traditional races can be difficult and often embarrassing for many children, which is why we envisage a different outdoor activity event that will suit all children.”

But the Telegraph says the move has infuriated parents.

”It is political correctness gone mad,” said Rob Busst. ”They are trying to solve a problem that does not exist. Children do not become scarred for life if they lose the egg and spoon race.

”They all love being in the races and they love the fact that their parents are there to cheer them on.”

Mr Busst’s two sons, who have been practising for months with an egg, a spoon and a lump of Blu-Tac, are said to be equally disappointed.

‘

Posted: 19th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Animal Crackers

‘ONE by one, our English traditions are dying out.

”Here boy…”

As historical origins have been forgotten, Guy Fawkes Night has slowly but surely become ”Fireworks Night” (or ”Bonfire Night” for those who still bother to burn a poorly-made effigy), and the whole thing will soon be totally overtaken by Halloween.

We here at Anorak have no great love for November 5th. It is after all, little more than an excuse to freeze to death while eating sausage sandwiches and watching a firework ”display” that is about as exciting as a magic lantern show to kids brought up in this age of computer-generated special effects.

So we are surprised to see that the RSPCA has chosen this late hour to launch a campaign for a quiet bonfire night, so as not to disturb cats, dogs, and urban foxes as they go about their lawful business of using our back gardens as public toilets.

The Telegraph reports that the organisation held a ”nice, quiet low-noise firework party” for MPs on Wednesday night, in an attempt to persuade them to ban bangers, rockets and other raucous pyrotechnics.

Eighty-seven per cent of RSPCA members want all fireworks to be banned outright, but the organisation claims that it doesn’t want to get rid of firework night altogether. Instead, it aims to make firweorks ”acceptable to animals” – which means nothing louder than 95 decibels.

How loud is that, you ask. The Telegraph says that it is the equivalent of ”the clap of a book landing from a table one metre high”.

And in case any readers are planning to drop the Chancellor’s Treasury report from tables of more than a metre in height on November 5th, just remember: we’re watching you.

‘

Posted: 16th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Sounds Of The Seventies

‘GREAT news in the Independent! Chief Reporter Terry Kirby reports that ”a lost archive of live recordings by some of the biggest names in rock music of the 1970s and 80s is to be released on CD after more than 600 forgotten tapes were uncovered at two radio stations”.

Little Jimmy Krankie must be nearly 15 by now

And what treasures have been unearthed in the vaults of Radio Clyde and Radio Forth (for it is they)? Nazareth unplugged? The Krankies live at Hampden Park?

We can hardly contain our excitement as we skim the article for details.

Shortage of space prevents us from listing these historic gems in full. Instead, we quote Richard Findlay, chief executive of Scottish Radio Holdings. ”It is a real time capsule with some great performances,” he says.

”It’s unique. We’ve got one tape which has 60,000 people singing along to Rod Stewart doing ‘Sailing’.” It doesn’t get better than that, does it?

Place your order now, to avoid disappointment.

‘

Posted: 16th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Dead Of Alive?

‘WOULD you know if you were already dead?

The four horsemen of the apocalypse

For those of you who spend all your time watching daytime television, this matters not.

To you, life is what happens inside the magic box. And if your own wooden box has an aerial, then so much the better.

We ask this because an article in the Telegraph says that we should have all perished yesterday in an onslaught of electro-magnetic waves, transmitted by Communist guerrillas.

The Panawave Laboratory cult, a Japanese group who believe such things to be true, are pressing on regardless, and dressing themselves and their property in white, which they say deflects the harmful waves.

The colonel for these nuts is one Yuko Chino, a woman who says that her death could trigger a holy war. Sad to say that Miss Chino is terminally ill and has only a few days to live.

So if we’re not dead now, the news is that we could be by Tuesday – but not until EastEnders has finished. Which is something of a relief…

‘

Posted: 16th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Band Aid

‘SINCE we learned about the Arab dhow – and that he had his toothpaste squeezed for him by his personal assistant, Michael Fawcett – little has been heard of the man called Prince Charles.

The Prince and his Royal Bracelet Tier-In-Chief

But now he’s back in the news, with the Telegraph’s expose of another of the gifts that have come his way.

The paper says that the Prince is wearing a ”hippy” bracelet, a red and white woven string band, given to him while on a state visit to Bulgaria.

What’s odd is that having disposed of valuable items via the aforesaid Fawcett, the Prince should choose to keep a homespun item valued by the paper at about 10p, and wear it on official visits.

What’s more, the Times has it that the bracelet, designed to bring luck and longevity (if he gives it to mummy, he’ll never be king), has sat on his blue-blooded wrist for over two months.

And it seems he will go on wearing the martenista, as it is known in downtown Bulgaria, until he spots the first swallow, or stork, of summer.

But since most things with wings are routinely shot at by his family, we can expect the Prince to be sporting the off-cut well in to his 115th year.

‘

Posted: 15th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Hand Made

‘IT might not be a stigmatum, but the impression of Nelson Mandela’s right hand that occupies the cover of today’s Times appears to map out his life.

An Ordnance Survey map of Africa

The handprint of the former President of South Africa seems to reveal a marked depression in the centre of his palm, which bears an uncanny resemblance to the shape of the African continent.

The story goes that while being artistic, Mandela rested his hand on a piece of paper that was covered in paint. He wiped his hand on another sheet and the image of his homeland appeared.

For those interested in owning a version of the image, the Independent says that copies of the print are now on sale – for charity – at London’s Belgravia Gallery, along with new works by the Prince of Wales.

No handprints of the Prince are revealed, chiefly on account of his hands never having got dirty.

‘

Posted: 15th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Fish Has Chips

‘IN the hunt for alternatives to the endangered cod, fishermen have been trawling the depths and bringing up all manner of creatures.

99% brine, 1% driftwood

But jamming these aquatic beasts headfirst into cans is causing their numbers to dwindle.

The Guardian has seen evidence that the populations of tuna, marlin and swordfish have fallen by as much as 90% since the 1950s.

The man behind one report into how fish numbers are in drastic decline, a Professor Meyers, says that mankind is ”vastly over-exploiting the oceans”

”What we have now are just the remnants,” he says.

It’s a view shared by Callum Roberts, marine ecologist at the University of York, who says: ”We will be converting plankton into crabsticks before long.”

To use that promise sounds like something of a breakthrough, and a dramatic improvement of the usual stick formula of sand, fly larva and treacle.

‘

Posted: 15th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Suicide Is Painful

‘YESTERDAY’S bombing of compounds for foreign workers in the Saudi Arabian capital, Riyadh, has sent the papers into overdrive.

Murder most foul

The front-page agenda was set at 11:25, the time the Independent says that two vehicles laden with Muslim fanatics and 400lb of plastic explosives rammed a residential building.

The result of that attack and the onslaught it triggered is that at least 29 people are dead and 194 injured.

Of the already murdered, nine were attackers from Al-Qaeda, suggesting that Saudi Arabia and not Hungary now has the most suicide-prone youth in the world.

If you think that’s a glib comment given the horrific attack, it is in keeping with the Guardian’s lead column in which readers hear how ‘international terrorism, not bogeyman dictators, remains the urgent security threat’.

It depends, of course, who is under immediate threat. And while many Saudis will have died at the behest of their countryman, the dead or alive Osama bin Laden, the Times leads with the work of one so-called bogeyman: Saddam Hussein.

On the Times’ cover, a woman sits amid piles of human bones, parts of the remains of 3,000 people discovered in mass graves at the site of ancient Babylon.

The Guardian does include this macabre story (the Independent has it on page 2) but only on page 16, a million words away from yesterday’s sensational attack.

But, then, a bomb is so much more exhilarating than a tale of the extinction of 3,000 people away from the public gaze.

‘

Posted: 14th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

When Badgers Attack

‘FROM one reign of terror now to another, as the Guardian brings news of the furry creature that put five people in hospital in the Worcestershire town of Evesham.

‘We’re not talking without our publicist here’

It seems that badger enthusiasts are dicing with injury in getting up close and personal with the black and white beasts.

This particular creature was called Boris – although Boris is now an ex-badger, having been finally caught under a crate and put down for a long sleep by a vet.

It’s a sad story of the lad who attacked after being set free from a wildlife park, where experts say Boris had enjoyed too much contact with humans and been inappropriately hand-reared.

Now Boris has bitten the proverbial hand that fed him, and, as the Times says, the legs and arms of Michael Fitzgerald – as well as forcing two policemen chasing him to seek refuge on the bonnet of their patrol car.

Nothing is heard from badger enthusiast Ron Davies, but he is believed to be only mildly shaken and more disappointed than shocked.

‘

Posted: 14th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

The Wages Of Sin

‘WITH Boris The Badger’s alibi cast in stone – ‘I’m dead, yer ‘onour’ – police are still looking for the gang that stole a Parcelforce van that was carrying GCSE exam papers.

Class dunce

The Times says that as a result the exams have had to be rewritten – so anyone in possession of an illicit paper needs to think about doing some revision, or robbing another van.

The caper could even be worked into a Charles Clarke vocational exam in ‘Crime – And How To Live Off It’.

Such a course would be a big hit with students, and doubtless take in a module on pick-pocketing, a skill that is very much in evidence in parts of Colombia, according to the Telegraph.

When that country’s president, Alvaro Uribe, went on a meet-and-greet walk around the northern city of Bucaramanga, he failed to spot that his wallet has been pinched.

Elected on a law and order ticket, Mr Uribe was, according to his spokesman, keen to downplay the incident.

‘They are poor people,’ he is said to have uttered. ‘We have to give them a second chance.’

Or a retake, as the Education Secretary might have it.

‘

Posted: 14th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Short Shrift

‘STILL hurting from his victory in a television poll to find the 100 Worst Britons, Tony Blair must be something of a broken man this morning as he eyes the front pages.

A national joke

The Independent, as with all papers, leads with Clare Short, the unlovely now ex-minister who finally did as promised and resigned her post in the Cabinet.

Sadly for Tony she is not departing as quietly as Saddam Hussein, and the paper uses its entire front page to reproduce the full text of Short’s resignation statement in the House of Commons.

‘I have decided to resign from the Government,’ she begins – an opening line that she vowed would come when the first bullet was fired in the Iraqi desert.

At that point many MPs, and readers alike, would be expected to switch off. Reams of words follow – but when someone is gone, their power is diminished. Right?

Perhaps, but Short is keen to keep her mouth in working order and gives full voice to her true feelings in the Guardian, a paper she knows Tony will read.

In an interview with the Guardian, she performs the neat trick of turning demotion into victory, asking herself if ‘maybe I can help more on the backbenches’ in protecting Labour from Blair’s ‘control freak style’ and ‘diktats in favour of increasingly bad policy initiatives’.

And if she achieves that, she will doubtless restore her tarnished credibility and pave the way for a return to Government as part of Prime Minister Gordon Brown’s team.

In the words of the less-than-dearly departed, Short urges Tony to start preparing ‘an elegant succession’ for Gordon Brown to take over the party and the country.

A situation that would need Tony to resign his post, a move about as likely as Clare Short ever being as important as she thinks she is…

‘

Posted: 13th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Fatness First

‘TAKING a look at mugshots of Clare Short, it’s a wonder she ever made it into Tony’s photogenic new Labour movement.

Another fat pig

Perhaps she was there to add the common touch, to show the large of frame that you can still make it? But the heavy boned are not always wanted even in a minor role.

Take the Times’ front-page news about how health club Fitness First, somewhat ironically billed as ‘Britain’s biggest fitness club chain’, sent out a controversial memo to staff.

From the computer of one Lisa Somerville, human resources director of the firm, the internal note reads: ‘Mike Balfour [chief executive] has asked me all to remind you that uniforms should not be requested over a size 16 as this is adding considerable costs onto our merchandising budget as we have to bulk buy.’

Looking past the poor sentence structure and the cheap joke on bulk buying, the news seems to suggest that fat staff are not wanted in the health club.

But, reassuringly, those turned away by the gym can join the police force.

Staying with the fat theme, the Telegraph says that 14-stone and 5ft 8in PC Jack Montague, has been awarded £100 compensation for ‘mental anguish’ after a heartless yob called him ‘fat’.

Emerging victorious, and plump, from a youth court in Cumbria, Montague spoke through the pain.

‘Coppers have feelings too,’ he blurted out, ‘and I’m just glad the magistrates have taken the unusual step of recognising that.’

So the next time you want to insult a copper, remember that there’s something approaching a human being inside the pointy hat and bovver boots.

‘

Posted: 13th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Photo Finish

‘SO important is looking good in today’s Britain that not turning up for a photoshoot can lead to trouble.

What grade do you want – A) A B) A C) A?

The Telegraph tells what happened to ‘star pupil’ Adam Agius, a 16-year-old student who has been expelled from his school after he rocked up late for the school photo.

Yesterday, Adam was chucked out of St John’s, a fee-paying school in Enfield, north London, and thus barred from taking his GCSE exams next week, as it is too late for the exam entries to be transferred.

For one reason or another – a hungry dog; a runaway train; a terrorist hijack – Adam failed to appear on time. When he did show, he was then told to go home by the school’s headmaster, the appropriately-named Andrew Tardios.

But now, speaking through the school’s solicitors, Mr Tardios says that a simple apology would have saved the day.

‘I was in shock at the time,’ says Adam, who claims he had no idea an apology was in order.

Now that he does, it’s too late. But why worry? These are just GCSEs and since everyone gets A grades across the board these days, it’s really no big deal.

‘

Posted: 13th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Taking Provisionals

‘IF this carries on for very much longer, we’re going to have to close our Irish office down.

‘Shhh! I think I hear his mobile phone ringing…’

Already down to a skeleton staff, following the disappearances of Kevin Fulton, Brian Nelson and Martin Ingram – all of whom are profiled in the Independent as ‘agents and whistleblowers’ – we now can’t find Alfredo ‘Freddie’ Scappaticci anywhere.

The good news is that Freddie should turn up somewhere soon, as all the papers lead with the news that, like us, the IRA and possibly the British secret services are looking for our man in the field, or holding up a bridge.

The times says that Scappaticci is now in hiding, following an expose in newspapers in Dublin and Belfast which claimed he has been a double agent, killing and torturing for the Provisionals for 25 years while supplying intelligence to the British security services.

Being so gregarious, you’d suppose that most of us would already know what Freddie looks like, which makes us wonder why the Times has frosted over an image of the writer, torturer and alleged informant’s face.

It could be that this is how Freddie looks now, as the man the paper calls the ‘jewel’ in Britain’s intelligence crown opts for some reconstructive surgery.

The Guardian, though, is behind the Times and is stuck with showing the world Scappaticci’s full face as was.

That paper also tells us that his nickname is ‘Stakeknife’ and that he once headed the IRA’s internal security unit, known as the Nutting Squad.

But we remember Freddie as an honest hard-working hack, albeit one that has not returned his laptop. If you’re listening, Freddie, can we have it back, mate?

‘

Posted: 12th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

The Teeth Have It

‘THE jelly is ready. The fondant fancies are sitting prettily on a doily. And the invitations have been despatched to all corners of the palace.

Yours to lick for 27p

Things are moving on apace in the preparations for Prince William’s 21st birthday on June 21.

The Times also spots some commemorative Royal Mint coins being pressed for the occasion and a set of four Royal Mail stamps, each featuring a picture of the Prince.

One such shot, designed from a portrait taken by Royal photographer Tim Graham, and reproduced in the paper, has Wills simmering out of the page.

And he can be yours for a mere 37p. Which is a bargain, especially compared with the 47p and 68p strains.

There is one cheaper stamp, on offer for 27p, which may or may not have been based on a photo taken by a Brendan Beine, a paparazzo photographer who used to follow the Prince’s mummy around.

There is no sign of a battered white Fiat Uno in the picture, but the coins do show something interesting: the Prince’s teeth.

David Cornell, who designed the coins, tells the Times that it was a tough job.

‘He insisted on using images of himself smiling, which made it difficult for me,’ says Cornell. ‘It is hard to produce a smiling coin because it is tricky to do the teeth.’

As such the coin is now the size of a dinner plate, and will be released to coincide with the 200th anniversary of the Epsom Derby.

‘

Posted: 12th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Going To Potteries

‘FOR some years now the north of England has been blowing its own euphonium.

‘Got any more of that funny roe, ma’am?’

The people are more friendly than in the south, so the hype goes, the houses are more affordable and the people want for nowt.

But, as the Guardian reveals, plans are afoot to return the north to its grim industrial past, to bury it under a mountain of rubbish collected in the green pastures of Sussex.

It seems that the rich south is so full of empty cartons of foie gras and Harvey Nichols own-brand salmon that East Sussex and Brighton and Hove councils are looking for new places to dump their waste. And Stoke-on-Trent is on the list.

Nothing is heard from the people of Stoke, although they must surely be excited that they might soon be in touching and sniffing distance of some of what the south has to offer.

Indeed, any Stoke resident wishing to upgrade their rubbish bin to reflect a more sophisticated palate, can contact us and, for a small fee, we will send them our weekly special, which this week is an empty bottle of mineral water.

‘

Posted: 12th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Short Straw

‘AFTER sacrificing her credibility with one of the most staggering U-turns ever seen over the war in Iraq, Clare Short’s Cabinet career could soon be at an end.

You still here?

This morning’s papers suggest the International Development Secretary is facing the sack – not for opposing the Government on a point of principle, but for playing hookey.

The Telegraph says Tony Blair is under mounting pressure to fire Short after she failed to turn up for Wednesday night’s crucial vote on foundation hospitals.

Officials in her department claim that she got in a muddle over the timing of the three-line whip vote.

‘They said she had wanted to be there and had fully intended to support the Government,’ it says.

However, the Guardian agrees that her ministerial career is hanging by a thread after she also missed yesterday’s Cabinet meeting because of a ‘competing engagement’.

It apparently clashed with a particularly good episode of Trisha yesterday.

One senior Labour source tells the paper: ‘Yet again by her own actions, Clare Short is making it very easy for the Prime Minister to remove her.

‘The hangman has opened the hatch – and she has acted as judge, jury and executioner.’

Also missing from yesterday’s Cabinet meeting were Gordon Brown (who sent a note from his mum) and Alan Milburn (who hadn’t brought his proper kit).

David Blunkett was given a detention for not having done his homework and Jack Straw was told off for pulling Tessa Jowell’s hair.

‘

Posted: 9th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Waive Goodbye

‘GAZA is probably not high on most people’s list of holiday destinations – and the latest move by the Israeli army is hardly going to boost visitor numbers.

‘What d’ya mean ‘strip’?

According to the Guardian, it is now obliging foreigners entering the occupied territory to sign a waiver absolving the army of blame if it shoots them.

Visitors, it says, must also declare that they are not peace activists.

Tom Hurndall, a peace activist, was shot in the head by an Israeli soldier in Gaza last month and is now in a coma with severe brain damage.

His crime? Trying to protect a small child from gunfire.

Another Brit, cameraman James Miller, was killed in a Gaza refugee camp – almost certainly, according to an autopsy, by an Israeli soldier.

The British Government is demanding a criminal investigation into both shootings.

In the meantime, the indiscriminate shooting of Palestinians continues. They don’t even get to sign waiver forms.

‘

Posted: 9th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Aisle Be Back

‘HUNDREDS of churches are to be literally wiped off the map in what the Times describes as ‘an act of cartographic deconsecration’ by the Ordnance Survey.

‘We are not gathered here today…’

The Government’s map-maker is to remove symbols of churches which are no longer used as places of worship.

Given the parlous state of the Church Of England, that should just about put paid to every church in the country – including the ones which still have regular services.

But the move has been attacked by archaeologists, historians and conservation groups.

‘It’s crazy. It’s crackers,’ says church historian Richard Morris.

‘Maps are not just about getting from A to B, they’re about understanding where we live.’

Well, at least we now understand where we live – in a godless world.

‘

Posted: 9th, May 2003 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

On The Placards

‘HANDS up who wants to hear from the Liberal democrats party conference in Brighton. Don’t worry, we can wait… Waiting… Still waiting…

Kennedy shows his true colours

So that’s Mr and Mrs Charles Kennedy, the parents of Mr and Mrs Charles Kennedy and Simon Hughes. Anyone else? No.

The Telegraph and its readers are more interested in seeing eight pages of snaps from the day the country came to London, ”a day for 815,582 sensible shoes”, and rack upon rack of Comfi-Slax.

”Give farming a future,” says the red and white banned being held limply aloft by a small mousy-haired girl.

”HUNT,” says the banner one page in, illustrated as it is by a hideous image of a grinning Blair-styled fox.

”Hunting forever,” says former Olympic horse rider Lucinda Green. ”Leave cowshit in the country and bullshit in Parliament,” says a campaigner for cleaner Wellington boots.

”This cow isn’t mad she’s bloody livid,” says a protestor, wearing a ”You don’t have to be mad to work here but it helps” T-shirt and showing everyone her hilarious singing fish.

It’s a sure thing that Tony B. would see the funny side in that. Although finding the humour in a shot of 12-month-old Sophie Large sleeping beneath a banner is harder.

”When I grow up I want to go hunting with my daddy,” reads the charming message. And doubtless on the other side it says: ”For paedos, weirdos and people who leave the gate open.”

Ah, from the mouths of babes…’

Posted: 24th, September 2002 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Clean And Serene

‘WOULDN’T it be just dandy if we were all happy! How great it would be if we could just learn to get along!

The photographer struggles in vain to capture Hitler’s good side

There would be no violence, no hatred and no explicit shots of Kate Winslet’s breasts.

It’s something John Dixon dreamt about. And his dreams led him to open CleanFlicks, a video retailer in Utah where, says the Guardian, what he calls ”unpleasant surprises” are cut from tapes.

So out go Winslet’s breasts in Titanic, followed by Tom Cruise’s love scene in the erotic thriller Top Gun and in comes a battle-free battle scene in Saving Private Ryan, in which no-one dies and the Germans challenge the Americans to help them build a daisy chain to wrap around the world.

It’s springtime for Hitler and Germany all over again.

‘

Posted: 24th, September 2002 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Jenny In A Spin

‘SINCE ”damn” and ”oh, my God” are also purged from the CleanFlicks collection, chances are that the average episode of Friends lasts but two minutes in Utah’s holy backwaters.

Two world wars, you say. And how many World Cups?

So it must come as something of a shock to CleanFlicks’ customers to hear that Friends has just won an Emmy for being the best comedy series on American TV.

And the show’s Jennifer Aniston got the award for being the best actress in a comedy series.

And the Telegraph hears her speak (excerpt brought to you by CleanPapers and Anorak digital dubbing).

”Oh my goodness gracious me,” says Jen. ”Hot diggity dog. Oh my goodness gracious me. Hot diggity dog. Repeat endlessly.)

Nice speech, Jennifer, but when it comes to oratory there can be few to match Winston Churchill. And so it was that Gathering Storm, the television portrayal of Churchill’s ”wilderness years”, won three Emmys, including a gong for Albert Finney’s performance in the lead role.

Enthusiasts can watch the Utah version, in which the celery chomping former librarian takes on the world at crown green bowls – and wins!

‘

Posted: 24th, September 2002 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Fruits Of The Forest

‘BUT what’s that growing up from the ground? Why, it’s a pseudotrametes gibbosa. Now, if we could just reach down and pick it up…

Fungal felon caught in the act

Ooer, here come the law, reaching out with his long arm to grap us by the collar and ask us to show our license to hunt…mushrooms.

Yes, that’s right, mushrooms have rights too, and although they might not complain and go on fancy marches, they are living things that demand respect.

And so it is that the authorities who run Epping Forest in the north-east of London, have declared that foragers can only pick the 1,2000 species of fungi that grow in the area on one visit per season.

Says Tricia Moxley, information services manager for Epping Forest: ”Licensing gives people a chance to indulge their passion in a controlled way.”

Because without control where would be? Out of control, that’s where. And that is no way to live.

‘

Posted: 23rd, September 2002 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Rambling On

‘THEY came in their thousands. Whether by train, cow or combine harvester, 407,791 protestors from the countryside descended on London yesterday to complain about their lot.

”When we grow up, we want to be ripped apart by hounds”

It’s a definite number, isn’t it – and the Telegraph has done well to be so precise.

Like a farmer counting his sheep as they jump over the fence, through the ring of fire and then into the pit, the paper chews its pen and watches the masses walk through the capital on their way to Parliament Square.

And what a motley crew they were! There was Elle McPherson, saying ”no more” to something or other on her way to the just-outside-the-seat-of-power, a stone’s throw from the shops.

And that’s Vinnie Jones, giving it to the city slickers with both barrels as he autographs a ”Save Our Countryside” placard.

And the paper also spots Edward Fox and television chef Clarissa Dickson-Wright in her trademark woman-in-sensible-shoes garb.

As the Telegraph gawps, spotting such and such, Mr Gaskell, a van driver no less, taps the paper’s man on the scene on the shoulder and says: ”There are no toffs in our hunt.”

But there are ferrets on your walk, and the Guardian spots one perched on his owner’s shoulder.

The little fella’s even got badge on. ”March for LIBERTY & LIVLIHOOD,” it says, which gives the Guardian’s right-on thinkers something furry to look at over their morning mueseli, and rabbits something to read before their throats are ripped out.

But there is a picture missing, and we can only lament the lack of foresight by the Times’ snapper.

In among the big names, and even bigger double-barrel names, was John McCririck, the Channel 4 racing pundit and resident of the country idyll of Primrose Hill, Camdenshire, walking around with a dead fox on his head.

Which is another example of a second-rate celebrity jumping on a passing haywain.

‘

Posted: 23rd, September 2002 | In: Broadsheets | Comment

Parking Life

‘IT’S lucky for the London-based celebs on show that the countryside marchers decided to ramble in London and not, say, in Ludlow or Taunton.

”Sorry, guv. Your ticket expired two minutes ago.”

And if the Sloane Rangers wanted to return the favour, they would have watched Seth and Jethro park their tractors and then told them in an empathetically rich comedy West Country burr: ”You can’t be paarkin’ thar, mate. That be what we calls a residents only paarkin’ bay.”

Before adding a hearty ”Ooooo-Ahhhh” to give added credibility to their Barbour and green wellies.

And had they been further up on the rights of London’s by-ways, they would have told the visitors, as the Times tells us, that motorists who fail to pay Ken Livingstone’s £5 daily toll for driving into London’s heartlands, and have been sent three or more £80 penalty notices for non-payment, will have their cars impounded.

And that’s legislation that could see yet more people marching on London – as thousands of disgruntled office workers, forced to leave their cars, take to the streets – because the buses are full, the Tubes are bursting with backpackers and the pavements are covered in dog, horse and fox crap.

‘

Posted: 23rd, September 2002 | In: Broadsheets | Comment