NEW GLEE LABOUR

OUR GOOD SCIENTISTS ARE OVERJOYED, as only science-type people can be, with the findings promoted by research into the planet Gliese 581g, discovered orbiting a nearby star, and upon which one scientist, a Professor Vogt (I kid you not) of the Carnegie Institution in Washington, has stated, in no uncertain terms, that he believes that life will undoubtedly have begun there.

ALBEIT TWENTY LIGHT YEARS AWAY from his object of certain desire, Professor Vogt is confident enough to state, “Personally, given the ubiquity and propensity of life to flourish wherever it can, I would say, my own personal feeling is that the chances of life on this planet are 100 percent. I have almost no doubt about it.”

THE ANCIENTS USED TO SET GREAT STORE by signs such as these from the heavens, and the fact that this momentous event coincides almost absolutely with the election of Ed Miliband as leader of the Socialist and Labour Party must surely mean that the chances of success on planet Labour are also 100 percent. I also have almost no doubt about this. Or perhaps not.

TWENTY LIGHT YEARS OF DISTANCE AND THE CHANCE of too much hot air frazzling up the atmosphere on Gliese 581g are, after all, long shots, somewhat like those of Mr Ed Miliband himself, pictured above (seated), smiling alongside other alien life forms in the Labour Congress. More serious views of the chances of life in the Labour galaxy would take into account the fact that poisonous gases, extreme cold, no atmosphere and complete lack of inertia may not be factors conducive to life. At least not as we know it.

SO AS OCEAN-GOING DEAD DUCK ED MILIBAND sets off on the shortest honeymoon period ever afforded to a new leader of a party he will be happy if he can manage to take the dead duck of his party and at least make it waddle, wag its tail and bob about a bit on the waves before it chokes on a heavier crust and sinks like a brick.



MISTER ED: LABOUR OFF TO THE KNACKER’S YARD

THE CBS TV COMEDY SERIES MISTER ED began its remarkable run of success on US TV from 1961 to 1966 and then was repeated from 1986 to 1993, 1996 to 1998, again from 2003 to 2006 and finally from 2007 until the present day, although now it is only shown on bizarre channels in the USA or the wider world in countries which do not have much television of their own. This achievement is particularly of note when one takes into account that the “plot line” is that of an intelligent horse, “played” by Bamboo Harvester, talking to a less than intelligent human architect called Wilbur Post, involving “Mr Ed” getting Post into trouble with chaotic comic results.

ALL OF THIS INVOLVED FAME for the actor Alan Young, who played Wilbur Post. Young was otherwise successful on radio and in some movies, but these conquests will always be second to his role as the straight man to a horse. When asked why Young was cast in this curious role, the producer, Arthur Lubin, stated that Young "just seemed like the sort of guy a horse would talk to."

EDWARD SAMUEL “MISTER ED” MILIBAND, MATHS GEEK, in his own words, also seems to have the attributes that Young appeared to possess: dumb, quick to get into odd situations and apt to mutter nonsense to himself while trying to get out of them. Having now been elected the leader of the Socialist and Labour Party, one wonders whether the horses are talking to him and what they may be saying. “Get off my back,” perhaps?

YET THOSE WHO ENJOY A GOOD LABOUR GOVERNMENT will probably have to wait some time to see a return of Labour’s success in the polls in the UK. Like Mr Ed itself, after several brief spurts of success, Labour will mainly be playing in theatres in small towns and third world countries for quite a considerable number of years. The burning question is, of course, not whether a horse is a horse, of course, but whether the brains of Labour, Mr Ed’s brother David, will hang around and play second fiddle to a vaudeville act or go off on a different course and make some proper money. Bets are on.

BELLAHOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM

THE FORM BOOK SUGGESTED THAT A FIELD DAY would be had by those who wished to diss Pope Benedict XVI; a gruff, grumbling, intellectual, stand-offish leader surrounded by a general staff of brass-hearts, one of whom had likened England to a “third world country” on the night before arrival (not, in fact, in England – but some ignorant foreigners call the whole nation England, when not ‘London’).

THUS AND AS PERMITTED OUR KNOXISTS and Wesleyans may have dusted off their kilts and beards, waxed their knees and perhaps even brushed their teeth to be prepared to repeat the howling at the Pope as was dished out to the Catholic sovereigns afore their banning from Scottish field, furrow, plain and strand. Benedict, the general feeling went, would crumple under the weight of the importance of this visit.

YET OUR NOW FAVOURITE GERMAN has surpassed anything ever seen by the dour Scots on St Ninian’s day. Pope Benedict waltzed smoothly into British life in his Edinburgh reception, he toned down his accent, went on walkabout without protection, spoke in Alban and kissed babies. The effect of all this, preceded by apologies made onboard as he flew into Scots skies about the fact that he was unable to stop or even report widespread buggery between and among priests, raping of choir-boys and young girls, child abuse on a scale never seen in any civilised society since Rome under Nero, was endearing. What a wonderful man. And what a lovely mass in Bellahouston. Now what will the papers say?

PRIMUS INTER PADRES

NAZI RATSY IS A PUFF DADDY! howled the front page of The Sun newspaper on the 19th of April 2005 when Dean of Cardinals and Primus Inter Pares Joseph Alois Ratzinger was elected Pope, and white smoke billowed out of the chimney above the Sistine Chapel. For those who do not understand the “joke” in the headline, the best idea would be never to read The Sun and to try to keep away from British humour altogether. Or you can write to me and I'll explain it.


POPES HAVE NEVER HAD A GOOD PRESS in Britain, something one could equally say about most overseas politicians who “talk foreign”, and if we add the fact that the current leader of all Catholics is German, then Pope Benedict XVI, the 265th Bishop of Rome and Sovereign of the Vatican City State, will need all the Teutonic thick skin he can muster inside his bullet-proof popemobile to keep from being upset by the big print bound to come his way later this week.


THE PREDOMINANTLY PROTESTANT PRESS has seen a bit of bubbling under of anti-Catholic sentiment of late; while this is not, perhaps, news, it is a surprising reaction from a world that generally manages to avoid religious feeling except when there is an opportunity to ridicule the Archbishop of Canterbury. The scandal of paedophilia in the Catholic Church does not even seem to be the major issue on the agenda by those who wish to protest against the first ever state visit by a Pope to Britain.


BUT WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE PROBLEM is suspicion of the old-fashioned Holy Apostolic Roman Catholic arrogance that is exuded every time a Pope comes over a little ex-cathedral. Despite the nice noises being made by the Pontiff, it is hard to put aside the fact that they are delivered in an accent that sounds like it comes out of the mouth of a Schutz-Staffel Commander in a bad Second World War movie. And no matter how learned and pious Benedict may be, the fact remains that in the wrong light he can look a little shifty.

BURN THE BOOK, BURN THE MAN

FOR THOSE OF US WHO BELIEVE THAT NOTHING beats curling up with a good book, the recent events in Gainesville, Florida, more specifically at the Dove World Outreach Centre, are rather confusing. As I write, Pastor “Doctor” Terry Jones, a second-hand furniture salesman who preaches from a church which is an extension of his garage and is a dead-ringer for Yosemite Sam in the Bugs Bunny cartoons, is confused about whether he has really heard from God or not telling him that he should not burn any Korans tomorrow. (Or Qur’ans as we increasingly see them written)

I AM NO EXPERT ON RELIGION, and thus am unable to give my own opinion as to whether the Koran deserves burning, but I have no intention to burn my own copy, which nestles on a shelf alongside my several Bibles, Torahs, Book of Mormon and Gospel of Zarathustra. Most of these were bought in second-hand or charity shops, and that is probably where they will end up in the future. I confess that none of them has been read from cover to cover.

OF BURNING BOOKS, MANY PEOPLE HAVE WRITTEN, and befitting his name, Francis Bacon (the serious one) uses a food comparison: “Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed and some few to be chewed and digested.” (Of Studies) Bacon happily then goes on to explain how his aphorism helps us understand which books are “goodly” as he terms it in his essay. One could continue the food metaphor into this Floridian penchant for burning books, and anyone who has tasted Floridian cuisine will know that, like a lot of Southern so-called “finger-lickin’” fayre, there is a tendency to put a tad too much spice on the hog or chicken or burger and leave it a tad too long on the coals.

STATESMEN OF VARYING IMPORTANCE have apparently been in contact with the good pastor in an attempt to avoid tomorrow’s “event”, including decent Roman Catholic Tony Blair, but not including the Imam responsible for New York City and the building of the Muslim Cultural Centre close to Ground Zero. None of this intervention has been useful, and so I suggest another: Tony Blair could provide a sign from God himself by offering Dr Jones an alternative book for him to burn, the destruction of which would also be a service to mankind. Surely Blair’s publishers must have hundreds of thousands of spare copies of the useless “Tony Blair: A Journey”?

CHRIS GETTING OUT OF BILL’S GOVERNMENT

OTHER THAN IRRITATING US with his accent, absurd phrasing and dubious pronunciation of the definite article, hapless William Hague has not made much of a mark on British politics despite serving as the leader of the Conservative and Unionist Party for a short while. Indeed, I must confess I had dismissed him as a possible candidate for news interest as soon as he resigned from his leadership post after a dismal period trying to show Conservatives that he was a youthful future leader rather than a balding, middle-aged, has-been whose brightest days were when he was a teenage Thatcherite.

HOW WRONG I WAS. Just when we all thought we had seen the end of the mispronounced “the” (as in “Thee future of thee world in thee next century will be…” etc.), it returned with a vengeance in the mouth of the current Condem Foreign Secretary. And just when we all thought it would be kept to the occasional speeches on matters of business abroad, Mr Hague has shown how fully committed to being a ConDem with a capital CD he is by doing what so many of his fellows seem to do and getting himself involved in a smutty, sex-based scandal.

OF COURSE, IN THE XXI CENTURY no one in their right mind (which one should not automatically extend to people who vote Liberal Democrat) would ever dream of criticising a government minister for being homosexual, but fingers and tongues will always wag if a minister is doing something which even he or she finds shameful. And if this is paid for by the tax-payer then the knives will be sharpened at the Telegraph, the Express and the Mail.

THUS BOYISH CHRISTOPHER MYERS, Mr Hague’s travelling companion and aide-de-camp in hotels on three continents over recent months, had to be sacrificed and leave his job in order to save Hague’s political future. Which even today looked in doubt again after the drivel he has been writing on his “twitter” machine about the “big lie” told about him. He has “nailed the gay rumours”, he tells us. All of us at Sunday Morning wish him well when he is soon shuffled off for medical attention.

VINTAGE CHARLES

NOT A GREAT DEAL HAS BEEN HEARD from our future leader Prince Charles of late, perhaps, many people may have thought, because his ludicrous efforts to make us save the planet by such bizarre ideas as not washing our Port wine glasses, chewing our muesli more slowly or reading our “bedtime books” by candlelight have been forgotten after political interest in climate change dwindled when an Icelandic volcano emitted more carbon in three months than the entire Western world in 20 years (counting back as from today).

NOT SO FOR OUR INTREPID PLANET-SAVER! We now know that he has been hatching his latest cunning plan to enable the average person to make a small but significant contribution towards a healthier future.

THOSE WHO HAVE NOT READ this month’s edition of Vogue USA magazine (in honour of which I am adding a link to my Spartan set of further reading material) will imagine I am inventing Charles’ suggestions. I suggest one should buy the print edition to get the full force of the foolishness up with which we will be putting when Charles becomes king of England.

CHARLES TELLS US HE IS A KEEN UPCYCLER, and suggests we all follow his example. His pointers to greater sustainability and responsibility are as absurd as his grandmother’s suggestions to East Enders in London who were suffering from the Blitz bombing of their slums to grow their own vegetables to make sure they got enough vitamins each day.

SETS OF CUFFLINKS CAN BE MADE, as indeed his are, from the engines of our old cars. He has had someone do this with his old Aston Martin engine. Savings can also be made with shoes, like his shoes, “made from bales of leather salvaged from an eighteenth-century wreck off the Southwest of Britain. They are totally indestructible and will see me out."

EVEN OUTER GARMENTS can show our care for our planet, claims Charles, such as his “winter coat, modelled on one owned by his great-uncle, King Edward VIII. It was made for him by Les Bergquist, a tailor at the Savile Row firm Anderson & Sheppard.”

IGNORANT CRITICS OF PRINCE CHARLES will suggest that he is completely out of touch with today’s reality, that very few working-class people wear cufflinks nowadays and that making them out of a Honda engine does not have the same panache as cufflinks from an Aston Martin.

WHAT THESE PEOPLE ARE MISSING is that Prince Charles, in accepting this interview with Vogue Magazine, is finally settling into his position as a trend-setter rather than trend follower. No doubt everyone who is anyone will soon be flocking to Savile Row with photos of their grandfather’s clothes to have them copied.

ONE HOPES WE WILL SOON SEE VINTAGE REMAKES of mid- XX century mining helmets, donkey jackets, boiler suits, overalls, tanner’s leathers and prison outfits being worn by today’s young men as they go about their business in city centre offices.

PUBLISH AND BE DAMNED

A GREAT MANY PEOPLE ARE AVIDLY READING A Journey, the autobiography apparently written by former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, now President of the Middle East, and pictured above in one of his characteristic “pointing-the-finger-of-authority” poses. Almost all of these people are looking for juicy scandal involving his relationship with Gordon “madman” Brown, or Alastair “I know where you live, matey” Campbell, the well-known spin-doctor.

OF MUCH MORE INTEREST, HOWEVER, is Blair’s description of George W. Bush. I am a rare fellow among my acquaintances in not considering Mr Bush to be an idiot but rather a sensible politician who remained a human being throughout his ordeals and did not put up with fools simply to follow diplomatic rules.

MR BUSH, WRITES MR BLAIR, had no idea who Guy Verhofstadt was when he met him at a G8 summit in Genoa in 2001. I must say that I myself have never heard of Mr Verhofstadt and I suppose I never will hear of him in the future even if and/or when he is given a “top job” in the European Union bureaucracy. (If he hasn’t been given one already.)

BLAIR WRITES OF THE MEETING: “He didn’t know or recognise Guy, whose advice he listened to with considerable astonishment,” Mr Blair writes. “He then turned to me and whispered, ‘Who is this guy?’ ‘He is the prime minister of Belgium,’ I said. “Belgium? George said, clearly aghast at the possible full extent of his stupidity. ‘Belgium is not part of the G8’.” Blair explained to Bush that Mr Verhofstadt was the “president of Europe” as Belgium held the presidency of the EU council at the time.

BUSH'S REPLY SHOWS BOTH HIS INTELLIGENCE and our own foolishness in insisting on the system we use in the European Union: “You got the Belgians running Europe?” before shaking his head, “now aghast at our stupidity”.

FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER TELLS US IN HIS PRETTILY-TITLED The Maid of Orleans, “Even the Gods themselves struggle in vain against stupidity”, but I imagine that some of even the most patient and loving gods have given up in their struggle against Brussels and its paper-clip-pushing grey men with the intellectual capacity of a cornflake.