THERE AIN'T NOTHING LIKE A DAME

IT WOULD BE SOMEWHAT AMISS of me to allow a state ceremonial occasion, such as the incinerating of the last remains of Britain's most important prime minister of the XX century, to go without a fitting word of recognition. And thus, as I feel it my duty to do so, I would like to add my words to those of so many who have committed key to screen over the last, upsetting days.

 

IN A GOOD WORLD, prime ministers would die in office, whether killed by lunatics who had ill-will toward them, or due to old age, having been good, decent, knowing and sensible folk for a long time. Dame Margaret Hilda Thatcher never had the chance to choose her end, having been beaten into submission by the very people she had promoted to power. This is a matter that those who have strong feelings on this issue should consider.

 

IN THE MEANTIME I THINK I SHOULD suggest, for those who have short memories, or who never go to the musical theatre, an excerpt from "South Atlantic", the famous Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II production, with its book by Joshua Logan:

We got sunlight on the sand,
We got moonlight on the sea,
We got bilberries and raspberries
You can eat them off your knee,
We got volleyball and ping-pong
And a lot of dandy games!
What ain't we got?
We ain't got dames!

GEORGIE PUDDIN 'N' PAYE

 

GORMLESS GEORGE 'GIDEON' OSBORNE, our dear and beloved Chancellor of the Exchequer, has admittedly been somewhat at a loss to endear himself to the great unwashed, an issue which is relatively unnecessary in his Cheshire constituency where the majority of voters favour footwear of the green-Wellington kind and appreciate his pig-snorting laughter version of 'haw-haw-now-lets-see-where-the-tottie-have-got-off-to-and-give-them-a-bit-of-a-feeling-up-the-bum-before-the-hunt' sort of "chappish" behaviour. There is indeed nothing to be scoffed at in this.

 

HOWEVER, IN THE BIG, BIG WORLD of today's politics, David Cameron, who used to be his friend at university and is now his boss at the new college they all frequent, occasionally wishes for George to 'show a bit of a leg', 'muck in', 'knuckle down' and 'get in there' with the working classes so that these unfortunates may like him, and -- although this is a long shot for Osborne -- want to re-elect the Conservative Party as the government.

 

OZZIE'S MAIN DIFFICULTY in touching base with the working class is his voice. His voice and his accent. His voice, his accent and his pronunciation. His voice, his accent, his pronunciation and his intonation. His voice, his accent, his pronunciation, his intonation and his delivery.

 

WHILST IN THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT the above attributes may fast-track him for a position of some note -- as it has obviously done in the academic world -- these attributes are a drawback when talking to 'real' people. Today Mr Osborne gave a speech to supermarket staff in Kent, and appeared to have undergone some sort of radical change in the language and style with which one associates him.

 

BEYOND THE DROPPING OF THE 'T's and the rather clumsy introduction of glottal stops (i', instead of 'it', "that's better inn'it"), there was no real incursion into Estuary English, and one does tend to imagine that if one ventures into these fields one should really go prepared. I suspect that even Georgie's political advisors, should such creatures exist, have no idea about the difference between the type of relaxed English spoken by supermarket workers in the south of England and the English spoken by gangsters of Italian descent in New York City in films from the 1970s. Thus we had to hear Osborne stating that things would be reduced by 'twennny percent'. And stating that the coming fiscal and tax policy may be "wannadebest" of recent years. Can no one help poor, misguided, inarticulate urchins like George? Surely education is the best policy?