RANDY ANDY

BEING SECOND IN LINE FOR A THRONE, as indeed being runner-up for anything in particular, must be rather disappointing, as it invariably leads to behaviour that is abjectly beyond the pale even according to the lax standards of human decency displayed by the current dynasty forming the royal family of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

 

THE BEHAVIOUR OF PRINCE HARRY in our former colony of the United States of America, to take a readily available example, when playing pool naked in Las Vegas in the company of ladies to whom he had not been formally introduced at Court, has become so commonly expected that it was no doubt at the base of the 2014 Fox network television entertainment show called "I Wanna Marry Harry".

 

GIVEN THAT I BELIEVE FEW of those who occasionally read what I write will know of this "reality show", as the children call these productions nowadays, I feel it necessary to point out that it involves bringing twelve young ladies described by the makers of the programme rather like Indian food, as "hot" and "tasty", to meet a person they imagine to be Prince Harry. "Prince Harry" then spends "quality time" with each of these empty-headed girls, trying to find out how much like a good curry they are, before revealing he is in fact not Prince Harry to the girl he finally chooses.

 

THE SHOW IS OF LITTLE interest other than to demonstrate how it is possible for these ladies, and, by implication, the audience of this absurd afternoon television show, to believe that a royal prince of the United Kingdom might feasibly get himself involved in "recruiting" ladies to see who is the "best kisser", no doubt among other skills, before proposing marriage. The depths to which the image of our royals has sunk.

 

DEPTHS, WE SHOULD REMEMBER, which have been plumbed in the past by a previous second-in-liner. We are now seeing how a court case in the United States may end up involving Prince Andrew as a participant in underage sex events bordering on rape. Andrew has, of course, "form". His relationship with New York actress Kathleen Dee-Anne 'Koo' Stark had to be broken off when it was discovered and revealed that she had made a lesbian sex shower scene in the 1976 film "Emily".

 

SENSIBLE THINKING GENTLEMEN might consider that Andrew was clearly on the right track in this choice, perhaps being able to spend evenings reliving the scene with his new bride instead of ending up with the toe-sucking, corrupt Sarah Ferguson, whose main claim to fame is that she has brought a bit more ginger to the royal family. But now we see that our present Duke of York has been embroiled in what looks like a legally complex sex-and-money scandal and once again we should look to history to see the lessons no one ever seems to learn.

 

NEW YORK CITY was so named in honour of James, Duke of York, a second-in-liner who unexpectedly became king to disastrous results. All historical reports suggest he liked spending his spare time entertaining a variety of mistresses. He was often insulted and once called "the most unguarded ogler of his time", with Samuel Pepys lamenting, when visited by the Duke, that he "did eye my wife mightily". Nothing really changes.

A RIGHT CHARLIE

LIKE MOST PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE in the freedom for others to do whatever they want and think whatever they like as long as they do not harm others, I am alarmed at the recent events in Paris involving the cold-blooded murdering of cartoonists at the French magazine Charlie Hebdo, although perhaps not as surprised as I should be, given the parlous state of Parisian society nowadays.

 

I SHOULD POINT OUT THAT I am not a great fan of this publication, and on the few occasions when it has come to my notice I have found it childish, as indeed I find a great deal of French humour. But being slaughtered at one's easel or keyboard for expressing one's rather limited and at times disrespectful view of the world must never be seen as a fair way to air our grievances.

 

BUT INDEED UNEXPECTEDLY, THE EVENTS have shown me something far more alarming over the last couple of days, and this is the utter inability of the French authorities to deal with such a crisis, suggesting, rather worryingly, that if indeed the merde ever hits the fan on a large scale in France then we would all do well to hope that proper police forces can be brought in from abroad to deal with it au sérieux.

 

TODAY I WENT TO LUNCH with the intention of finishing my reading of the amusing novel The Visiting Professor, by Robert Littell, which deals with the activities of a middle-aged university professor who almost accidentally discovers the pleasures of oral sex with a 23-year-old girl hairdresser he meets on his arrival in the university town he is visiting. Being a middle-aged university professor myself, I confess that I have found this novel rather gripping, to say the least, and expected to finish it over lunch in the peaceful town of Sintra today.

 

ALAS, THE CURIOUS EVENTS on the television news kept me from my reading, entranced as I was by what I was watching. Yesterday I watched for over an hour as policemen walked up and down a street in Paris, changing clothes, putting helmets on and taking them off again, loafing about and now and then remonstrating with citizens of the Republic who were crossing their paths carrying supermarket bags full of baguettes.

 

TODAY I WITNESSED SIMILARLY-DRESSED policemen walking up and down an embankment to no apparent purpose, slipping and sliding and falling over each other and arguing amongst themselves, while hostages were at risk of their lives in a supermarket and two terrorists were "holed up", as the television reporter put it, in a printing factory. Thousands of officers were involved, I was told.

 

RARELY HAVE I WATCHED anything that pre-announced so clearly that these events were going to end in disaster. This was at lunchtime. It now appears, according to the authorities, that the situation has come to an end, as the imbecile President Hollande has drawn a line under the matter with his speech some minutes ago. However, other sources suggest there may be "further gunmen" on the loose, and that several of the hostages have been killed by the police.

 

WITH A GOVERNMENT AND POLICE FORCE LIKE THESE, the main enemy facing freedom in France is not random hot-headed Muslims who can't take a joke, but Charlies like those in power who have no idea how to run a multiracial country, how to keep order when it breaks down or how to make anyone feel safe. The only absolute to come out of all of this lamentable business is that the extreme right in France are closer than ever to getting elected into power; and that means trouble for leftwing atheist cartoonists and Muslims alike.

FACING THE SOUND OF MUSIC

ALL RIGHT-THINKING PEOPLE would under normal circumstances find today a reason for celebration, as it is the last day that the inhabitants of the European Union will have to put up with the ten-year tenure of the smarmy, unelected José Manuel Durão Barroso, surely the most prominent of the "leaders" of Europe over recent years in their inexorable progress towards establishing a fully-fledged dictatorship.

 

BARROSO HAS CELEBRATED HIS DEPARTURE by giving out a luxury 616-page publicly-funded coffee-table book entitled European Commission 2004-2014 - A Testimony by the President with Selected Documents. This is, if any more were needed, further testimony to how these people love themselves and take their worth to the world so seriously.

 

BLURB ON BOOKS IS CUSTOMARY at this time of year, when everyone who has ever been famous for more than 15 minutes comes out with an autobiography in time for Christmas, so I thought it might be elucidating to report on how some of those who have been given the book have reacted to it. In future print runs Barroso may consider putting these comments on the back cover.

 

 "A DELUSIONAL AND SELF-SERVING MEMOIR", "a vanity project", "a ridiculous propaganda stunt" and "a slap in the face for taxpayers" (Grant Shapps, Chairman of the British Conservative Party)

 

"IT'S GOT SOME NICE PICTURES OF THE G8 SUMMIT IN IT, but we've got plenty of those already" (David Cameron, British Prime Minister)

 

THE DELUSIONAL ONE MAY HOPE that this work will serve as his legacy after ten years of interfering with other people's lives in ways that they do not want, reducing almost a third of the population of Europe to a state of poverty not known for forty or fifty years and making the threat of a European Civil War a reality. The latter event, however, will pave the way for the European Super State governed by a dictator, surely the ultimate aim of these people.

 

MANY, HOWEVER, WILL REMEMBER him by his reply to the accusation that nothing involving this European project is democratic: "Decisions taken by the most democratic institutions in the world are very often wrong". But I myself imagine him singing the following in a snazzy pair of lederhosen, soon to go off and join the ranks of the marauding storm troopers:

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye;
I hate to go and leave this pretty sight
So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu
Adieu, adieu, to you and you and you
So long, farewell, au revoir, auf weidersehen
I'd like to stay and drink some more champagne
So long, farewell, auf weidersehen, goodbye
I leave and heave a sigh and say goodbye

WORKING UP A SWEAT

OF LATE I HAVE BEEN somewhat concerned about the several different issues that appear to be threatening our existence here in the comfortable West. The first among these is no doubt the danger posed by the so-called Islamic State, who, in their misinterpretation of the tenets held and proposed by the Koran, believe that a sure way to Heaven is to behead innocent humanitarian workers, film the event and post it on the new form of television which today's children call YouTube.

 

PERHAPS WITH ISLAMIC STATE THEMSELVES SEEING that this is an unlikely route to perpetual happiness, their agents have of late turned their attention to targeting British police officers as they jolly their days away telling tourists the time on the streets of London.

 

YET ISLAMIC STATE is not alone in its menacing of ending life as we know it; once again a deadly malaise is emerging out of Africa, pointing its bony finger of destiny at the wider world, which is very now cowering in fear whenever any of the apparently "tell-tale signs" are noticed by passengers arriving at airports.

 

THE VARIFORM SYMPTOMS of the evils of Ebola can easily be confused with those of a common cold, the 'flu or a hangover after a serious bout of over-imbibing, and thus one can expect many mistakes to be made as soon as airport staff the world over manage to get the temperature-measuring devices necessary clanking into activity.

 

ON THE SUBJECT OF CLANKING into activity, I was more than briefly interested in a news item this week suggesting that "one in ten British people" have had sexual intercourse inside an airport while waiting for a flight. According to a company called Jetcost.co.uk, this activity ranks highly on the list of things to do to pass the tedious time after we have passed the security checks and find it is still over an hour before our departure.

 

RELAX AND WAIT IN LOUNGE may be what is announced, but it seems there is a lot more gate opening and boarding going on, and usually in airport toilets, should the survey be believed.

 

ALTHOUGH I REGULARLY FREQUENT airports, I feel I should state that I have never indulged in any such practices as I usually travel with my good lady wife.* But I am to no little extent worried that the flushed faces and sweaty armpits of those who choose to carry out airport 'shagging', as I believe the term for sexual intercourse in public conveniences should be called, may be then mistaken at boarding for someone with the symptoms of Ebola. And thus we have a ready-made excuse should we be stopped: we may answer that we have not recently returned from Africa, but merely from a quick knee-trembling thrill in the gentlemen's toilets.

*I do realise that this does not make such activity impossible or even unlikely.

PYJAMA GAMES

ONE HAS TO FEEL SORRY for millionaire Brooks Newmark, Conservative MP for Braintree in Essex, after the recent scandal involving him being "trapped" into sending photographs of his penis to a "young lady" on his twitter account. The fact that the young lady was in fact invented by a journalist working for the Sunday Mirror is neither here and there, when it is obvious that Mr Newmark, who is one of the founders of Women2Win, an organisation aimed at improving life for women in Britain, was, by befriending a person he genuinely believed to be a woman who wished to better herself, only doing his bit to contribute towards this by dropping his pyjamas and taking an intimate selfie.

 

IT WOULD BE UNFAIR OF ME TO SUGGEST that this behaviour has anything to do with being American -- indeed he was born in Connecticut and lived there until he was nine years old -- and that photographing one's genitalia is, I am told, extremely popular in that country, but is, regrettably for Newmark, somewhat frowned upon in this country, even for Conservative Ministers.

 

MR NEWMARK HAS NOW resigned, and will have to deal with the opinion of this matter held by his wife Lucy, given that she is certainly one woman whose life will not be improved by his latest amateur photographic activity.

 

YET PEOPLE OF SOME SOCIAL STANDING, as I can confirm myself, will always be subject to offers normally withheld from the common man, and if only social media maladdress is at the root of Newmark's faux pas then it may be forgivable. My own opinion, however, is that people like us should always be able to say 'no' whenever we are asked to send photos of our penises to people we do not know very well.

SUIT AND BOARD

NO PHOTOGRAPHS ARE AVAILABLE, so my readers will have to take my word for it when I state that I yesterday began my future leisure career as an exponent of "bodyboarding", also known as, at my age, semi-suicidal hurtling of one's body on a flimsy piece of plastic into the middle of Atlantic waves on a coastline renowned throughout the world for throwing up waves that can reduce houses into rubble. This also involves squeezing myself into a rubber "wet suit", one of the most difficult experiences I have ever undergone. An immediate comparison comes to mind, but I will not be going into it here.

 

OF COURSE, IT IS NOT THE DELIGHT of this near-death experience that excites me -- if, indeed, that is the most apt term -- but the relaxation it affords me between waves to allow my mind to wander at will and peruse the issues of the day. And no issue has been more "of the day" recently than the utter and total collapse of one of Portugal's biggest banks, apparently against all expectations, and showing that the Portuguese government had no idea of what was going on in its economic and financial sector.

 

WHILE I WAS WONDERING HOW it was possible for this to happen, I became aware of the startling symmetry between bodyboarding and running a bank in which no real money existed on bluff alone. Firstly, in both activities one needs a good suit if one wishes to be taken seriously. Secondly one needs the right board: one that will support one and will emerge at one's side even when one has taken the biggest of tumbles after getting out of one's depth.

 

LASTLY, ONE NEEDS TO LOOK CONFIDENT, particularly when being observed by foreigners, as is the case on the beach I frequent. Thus it was that Banco Espirito Santo managed to fool the, admittedly easy to fool, troika of the three stooges from the European Commission, the European Central Bank and the International Monetary Fund, all of whom went over the books and gave the bank a clean bill of health. Good grief! One can only shiver on imagining how qualified these people are to give advice to anyone.

 

(The lower picture shows Curly, Larry and Mo, the salvation of Europe)

CHEMICAL WEAPONS

THE CHINESE-OWNED MEGASTORES that proliferate throughout many countries in Europe have, it must be said, many advantages: their opening hours allow one to purchase necessities one has forgotten at all times of the day and week. And thus it was that I recently found myself in one of these establishments in the picturesque town of Sintra, in Portugal, a place with a tiny population but with six of these shops.

 

THE PURPOSE OF MY VISIT was to purchase yet another umbrella to help me deal with the remarkably English climate of this part of the country, but my eye was taken by a range of after shaves and EDTs (as "eau de toilette" has now become known), including the one pictured above, which is now the subject of some fascination for me.

 

THIS PRODUCT, "OBAMA", is, or rather was, a part of the range of EDTs produced by the company going by the name of "Shirley May", and which has a website visitable by those who wish to confirm my statements here. If one looks at the back of the box, one may see that Obama (and presumably the other products in the range) was made in the United Arab Emirates and is for distribution in the Ukraine and Moldova. The blurb on the back is mainly in Cyrillic characters, thus being rather mysterious.

 

THE ISSUE OF THE TRAGIC EVENTS in the Ukraine at the moment brought my attention back to this EDT, upon which I detected a certain symmetry between the fate of this Obama and world events in general. Obama has been removed from the Shirley May range, although other products, such as "Just Black", "Black Market", "Army Fight" and "Hero" are still for sale today. (Strangely, one of the EDTs is called "Blog", although I could not find it when I returned to the same shop two days ago.)

 

IN REAL LIFE, OF COURSE, the world is waiting for action on the part of Europe and the USA in order to stimulate the obstreperous Vladimir "Ras" Putin into action both over the Ukraine in general and over the shameful events taking place around the crash site of Malaysia Airlines MH17, but, David Cameron apart, no one seems to care.

 

AS FOR OBAMA ITSELF, my good lady wife has informed me that in her opinion it is extremely well packaged both on the box and the bottle inside, which looks extremely bold and strong on the dressing table. However, she tells me, after an initially forceful aroma it loses almost all of its promised effect very quickly indeed; so much so that if I spray it on in the morning after breakfast, one would swear that after no time at all there was nothing there.