Pulling our Nick Clegg

The Sunday Murdock Times: Two more ministerial 'cabs for hire'

… This weekend a YouGov poll of more than 1,500 people for The Sunday Times shows that by nearly two to one, 49% to 29%, voters agree with Nick Clegg, the Liberal Democrat leader, that this is the most corrupt parliament in Britain's history.

Nick Clegg always struck me as a reasonably sensible chap, not given over to hyperbole. The most corrupt parliament in Britain's history? Seriously? Did he actually do history at school? Has he forgotten what things were like before the Great Reform Act of 1832? No parliamentary representation for entire cities; rotten boroughs; the vast majority of men unentitled to vote (and no women whatsoever).

Surely Nick Clegg must be pulling our leg.

But no, let's read what Mr Clegg actually said:

Hansard: Prime Minister's Questions, 24 Mar 2010

Mr. Nick Clegg (Sheffield, Hallam) (LD): … Is not the truth that this Parliament will go down as the most corrupt in living memory because [the Labour and Conservative parties] both blocked reform?

So, there you have it. It's not the most corrupt parliament in Britain's history; it's the most corrupt parliament in living memory. A small, but significant difference.

We'll sleep sounder in our beds knowing that.

But if, by any chance, you're considering not voting in the forthcoming General Election, remember your history, and the people who died to earn you the right to vote.

Italy

Jen and I returned from a holiday in Italy on Wednesday. We stayed in Sorrento, and visited Pompeii, Capri, Positano and Naples. Here are the photos.

You might notice that there aren't any photos from Naples. Only a total idiot would take his brand new Canon EOS 5D Mk II camera to Naples. Mine was left in our hotel safe. That's why they call them safes.

Naples in two words: shit hole.

Not bad pizza, though.

Ann

Ann & Jen
Ann

Our dear friend Ann died this morning. She had been ill for quite some time. She was a genuinely lovely lady.

Our love and condolences go out to Bill and Philip.

Binding agreement

Jen occasionally suggests that I should go on a plastering course. I think the general idea is that I would then be able to plaster the house. A useful skill, I suppose, but I can't help feeling that it would be far less hassle if we just paid a professional plasterer to do the work. I think Jen must secretly agree, because, in recent years, we have indeed, on more than one occasion, paid a professional plasterer to do such work.

I'd far rather learn woodwork. But there's a problem with that too: Jen wants to learn woodwork for herself, and she's damned if I'm going to cramp her style.

Which leaves me with the one handicraft I have always had a secret hankering to try, ever since I saw a documentary about it on the telly in the 1980s: book-binding.

Who knows? Perhaps, one day, when I'm retired, I'll send myself on a book-binding course, and end up doing something as utterly wonderful as this:

(No, I don't think it's very likely either.)

A tomb with a view

Jen and I like to plan ahead. Several years ago, we reserved our final resting place at the local Methodist Baptist [same difference] chapel. Not that we're Methodists Baptists, you understand, but they'll take anyone.

To be honest, I don't care one jot what they do to me once I'm dead. I'll be dead; why should I care? But it's a pretty cool graveyard, with a rather smashing view.

Last weekend, Jen and I went for a walk near the graveyard. So I went and stood on my own grave and took a photo:

The view from my grave
The view from my grave.

If it's all the same with you, however, neither of us is planning to fill it any time soon.

Lumb Falls

I put my new camera through its paces at the weekend. What? I never told you about my new camera? Some other time perhaps. I made a little video. Note how nonchalantly I say that. I make it sound easy, don't I? You have absolutely no idea. The nonsense I'm having to learn about different video formats, resolutions, frame rates, and crap like that, you wouldn't believe me.

Anyway, I dedicate this video to Sony Music, on account of the fact that version one of said video included a rather beautiful piece of classical guitar backing music. But YouTube detected that I might have breached some Sony copyright or other, so I took it down. So, instead of getting a free plug for one of their CDs, Sony is going to have to do without—and you get to hear my video au naturelle, just as Nature intended. (That would be the video which is au naturelle, obviously, not you. Or at least I hope not.)

Guitar? Schmitar! Dig all that white noise:

Those of you with fast broadband connections can view the video in high definition here (select 720p at the bottom of the video).

Gets me right there

I'm not a particularly patriotic chap. I like England to win at the rugby (best not mention yesterday), I think it's great that Charles Darwin was one of ours, and, as far as I'm concerned, I live on the most beautiful island on the planet. But I also happen to think that the union flag is pretty damn tacky, I couldn't give a flying toss about how crap our overpaid soccer team is doing yet again, and I cringe with embarrassment every time I hear the opening chords of the national anthem—it's the Twenty-First Century, for Christ's sake!

My mate Fitz rightly points out that it would be ridiculous for me to feel proud of being English/British. I didn't have any say in the matter; I just happened to be born where I was. I also happen to have been born with two legs, but I don't feel particularly proud of them. Actually, that's a bad example, as I have a particularly fine pair of legs, but you catch my general drift.

But every now and again, I come across something which gets me right there. Something which tugs at my latent patriotic heart-strings. Something which makes me cry out, "YES, THAT IS US! WE ARE BRITISH. WE ARE BETTER THAN YOU, AND I AM PROUD OF IT!"

Something like this:

Portrait of a young woman dressed as Boadecia or Mother England
Portrait of a young woman dressed as Boadecia or Mother England.

WE ARE BRITISH! HEAR US ROAR!

Nothing works as well as homeopathy

Let it not be said that our political representatives never say anything sensible:

Guardian Science Blog: MPs deliver their damning verdict: Homeopathy is useless and unethical

Today the Science and Technology Select Committee delivered its verdict on homeopathy and it was devastating. The committee has called for the complete withdrawal of NHS funding and official licensing of homeopathy.

Hurrah! So, of course, the funding will be withdrawn immediately…

Oh no, that's right, there's a General Election in the offing. Do you really think the government is going to withdraw funding for quack homeopathic treatment, when hundreds of thousands of idiots swear by the stuff? That's hundreds of thousands of voting idiots.

Do me a favour. Should any politican come canvassing at your door in the next couple of months, ask them about their position on NHS funding for homeopathy. Then listen to them not answering the question.

We still have some way to go.