ORGY NEWS

BEING A GENTLEMAN of some standing and knowledge of the world, people often come to me and ask, "David, have you ever been involved in a sex orgy?" The short answer to this is, of course, "Yes", although it was only once, a long time ago, when I was an undergraduate at University College London. (Nothing of this sort ever took place during my later time in Magdalen College, Oxford.)

 

THE OCCASION WAS SOMEWHAT DISAPPOINTING, as one of the ladies fell asleep after drinking too much cider, and the other, who was my ladyfriend at the time, refused to have any sex because we had had a flaming row earlier when I had informed her of the impending party, to which she had not previously agreed.

 

IT IS THUS WITH GREAT ADMIRATION that I hear testimony today in a court in Lille, France, from Dominique Gaston André Strauss-Kahn, a former potential future president of the Republic of France and one-time Director of the International Monetary Fund, thus someone to whom one should look up, about his attending of "sex parties" involving as many as thirteen men and "at least" seven girls, more or less "four times per year", which is, in his words, "not very often at all".

 

I IMAGINE THAT EXPRESSIONS such as "often" can only really be comprehended in relation to what one expects "very often" or "seldom" to mean, and in that case M. Strauss-Kahn must be comparing to what he knows about other people's sex parties and how often those took place.

 

THERE IS SOMETHING BERLUSCONIESQUE in the unfortunate Strauss-Kahn's complaints that he did not know that the women involved were in fact prostitutes and that he was not sure where they came from, although the offices of the French prosecutor today announced that Strauss-Kahn knew what was going on when what was going down went down, as the children say today, and was actively involved in the procurement of ladies willing to participate in return for money. This is perhaps only one of the diferences between young students who can only afford bottles of cheap cider and multi-millionaires who have been living off the public purse for their entire lifetimes and have no idea what money really means.

UN VALLS A DEUX TEMPS

 

FRANCE HAS ALWAYS STRUGGLED to keep up with the more advanced countries in their pursuit of democracy, modernisation, equality and the well-being of their populations. I am not, of course, going to include the expression "pursuit of happiness" here, as the last thing any French citizen would ever wish for is happiness, given that they would be left with no raison d'être if a need to complain was removed from them.

 

BUT IN THE ABSENCE OF THE REALITY of being a modern cosmopolitan state, French statesmen have always had the inspiring ability to create an illusion of a modern cosmopolitan state, much in the manner of how the morose philosopher René Descartes managed to reduce the world to nothing and then build up a simulacrum of the same world and pretend it was real. Without ever leaving his bedroom. Which is an ideal state for a large number of Frenchmen, preferably when in the company of someone young and with whom to indulge in a little amourette.

 

IF FRENCH SOCIETY has been turning its back on the real issues de nos jours for some time now, then that time, it appears, has come to an end, as we now see that recognition of the déraciné condition of so many of those who live in France and should thus feel French is no more than an idée reçue that never became based on fact.

 

CURRENT FRENCH PRIME MINISTER Manuel Valls spoke valiantly last week in the wake of the murderous attack on a Parisian satirical magazine, stating "France is one nation (...) one republic". The determination he showed, as a semi-anonymous politician, was to appear to be a statesman of the first water, which is extremely rare among French prime ministers, whose names are often unknown even to the population of France.

 

EARLIER TODAY, HOWEVER, M. VALLS seems to have suffered an attack of realpolitik as he stated that France had collapsed into a state of "apartheid" in which the country was divided into ghettoes and leaderless ethnic enclaves. This remarkable volte face could possibly suggest that France is coming to accept itself as it really is rather than pretending to be a liberal democracy, or that M. Valls would like to become better known than most French prime ministers. I suspect neither will come to pass.

GOODBYE MY LOVE GOODBYE

IT WOULD BE FAIR TO STATE that at the moment the eyes of the world are firmly on Greece now that the country has the scruffy heathen Alexis Tsipras as its Prime Minister. Although it appeared, as recently as a few days ago, that there were those who doubted his ability to run a country, there can no longer be doubt in anyone’s mind that Mr Tsipras is a man of his word.

 

THE PROMISES HE HAS SO FAR managed to keep may only be that he swore he would never wear a tie, sounding like some petulant teenage boy who is being forced by his parents to attend the wedding of a distant relative, and that he would never swear on the Bible, but at least he is sticking to his guns, as they sometimes say.

 

YET IT MAY PROVE SLIGHTLY MORE DIFFICULT for him to live up to his promise to treat the hated Angela Merkel “the same as anyone else” and to speak to her only if and when he “feels like it”, given that Mrs Merkel is the real person calling the shots (just to continue the metaphor) under the skies of Hera nowadays.

 

BY A STRANGE COINCIDENCE the election of Mr Tsipras as the saviour of the most debt-ridden corrupt country in the inept European Union took place only mere hours before Artemios Ventouris "Demis" Roussos passed away. Although Mr Roussos was not Greek strictu sensu, if I am allowed to mix my classics, he, along with Nana Mouskouri, the bespectacled Greek singing sensation, gave the more serious countries in Europe a view of what Greece had to offer.

 

THEY WERE ALWAYS EXTREMELY POLITE on television and to journalists, and deferent to their betters who were giving them a chance to make a bit of money in hard cash such as the Bank of England issues on a regular basis. Not so, however, with the modern Greeks, who may end up, once again, slipping into the realm of the "soft currency unit" so enjoyed by countries which cannot feed their own children. Let alone buy them such dignified apparel as a tie. But now for those of us who live in the real world it may be goodbye, not to Berlin, but to Greece.

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.