Erm…

I watched John Prescott on Newsnight last night blustering on about how Gordon Brown wasn’t a bully, etc., etc.

It was pure Prescott – a jowl-wobbling, syntax-mangling  rant, that was, at times, almost impossible to understand.

But what did come across loud and clear in his defence of Brown was when he said that “he was the man who didn’t want to go into the ERM [Exchange Rate Mechanism]…and thank God we didn’t.”

That’s not true. Brown supported our entry into the ERM, as did most of the political establishment.

So is this another of those things that’s been purged from the history books, like, say, Tony Blair’s membership of CND?

Or  given that we did go into the ERM, is it just Prescott not really knowing what he’s talking about, as usual?

Erm.. yes

Losing faith in the BBC

Writing in the Times today on the BBC’s decision to appoint a Muslim as its Head of Religion, William Rees-Mogg says:

What I do not understand is why the BBC did not choose its head of religion from the majority English church, which is plainly the Church of England.

He points out that “that would have been more democratic and professional”.

The piece that passeth all understanding
I must say I don’t quite understand why he doesn’t understand.

Because I understand perfectly well.

I understand so well, in fact, that I’d have been astonished beyond all understanding if the BBC had appointed a Christian.

Nuff said, I think.

Animal wrongs

Animal rights fascists have claimed another scalp. Lydd Primary School headteacher Andrea Charman has quit after campaigners threatened violence against her and her primary school.

Why? Because she sent a lamb for slaughter.

To see a lamb at school
The lamb, called Marcus, was reared on a school farm set up by Mrs Charman.
The farm was meant to educate the children about the reality of farming, and to let them know where their food comes from.

The bleating obvious
Marcus, though no doubt a winsome beast, as lambs tend to be, was therefore an animal raised for meat.

Ee aye ee aye
The decision to slaughter him was approved by most of the children, and by the governors.

Oh…
But the balaclava bigots couldn’t stomach that, and launched a hate campaign against the school.

Bah bah
In this, of course, they were helped by the cuddles brigade – hundreds protested outside the school; there was (sigh…) a “Save Marcus” Facebook page; and TV host Paul O’Grady offered to give the lamb a home if it was spared.

And some parents claimed their children had been “traumatised” when they learnt the lamb had to die.

This is obviously not true, of course, ‘traumatised’ being probably the most misused word in our much-misused language.

I blame the schools. Speaking of which…

When Mrs Charman arrived at the primary school, it was in special measures.

When she left, it had just got “a glowing Ofsted report”.

Nuff said…

Ticking the right box

I had to fill in a form the other day to register for a course at my university. Most of the information was relevant, and there for an obvious purpose – name, address, place of work, etc.

No Harman done
But then we got to the Harriet boxes: race, gender, etc. I can see why these data would be useful and even harm(an)less for some purposes. But the fact is, that after 12 years of Labour rule, I just don’t trust anyone who wants to know all this; and I don’t know what they’ll do with the information.

Aside from leave it on a train, of course.

The Bartleby box
So I looked for what I call the Bartleby box – the one that lets you tick Rather Not Say.

This always struck me as a bit feeble. So you can imagine my delight that the legend had been replaced by the much more robust phrase, Information Refused.

MYOB
It’s not perfect – my preferred legend would be Mind Your Own Business.

But it’s a start.

So I ticked it.

Information refused.

Nuff said.