WEEKEND WIDDY
Random Thoughts and Musings
Welcome to Weekend Widdy which, as regular readers will know, is a collection of short pieces of the type which used to surround my main article on my old Daily Express page. It comes out usually on a Sunday and, unlike Widdy on Wednesday , is free to all. I am, as ever, grateful to my paying subscribers as they keep this substack going.
I also have a weekly column in GB News Online and, of a more frivolous nature, in Best magazine. I am also on Cameo.
First, an apology. Last week, I recommended Iain Dale’s substack -and still do- but when I clicked on it ten minutes later, it was to find he had posted a review of a film, which he himself called soft porn. Said review was full of appalling language and imagery. So for any of you who may have taken my advice, a) my apologies, b) my assurances that it has never been like that before and c) my profound hope that it will never be like that again!!
With the latest revelations that the security services knew all about Mandelson’s association with Epstein ( I never really doubted it) I remain even more baffled trying to understand the thought processes of our hapless Prime Minister. Last week I asked why, given Trump’s unusual approach to foreign affairs, it had not been thought more appropriate to appoint a career diplomat. But now we can forget that question, the much more pressing one being why, if he wanted instead a political appointee, he was so persuaded of Mandelson’s merits when all the advice appears to have been against it.
Even if he took Mandelson’s word that he “barely knew Epstein”, even if he discounted all the evidence to the contrary, even if he felt all the pushback was merely malicious, what made him choose Mandelson in the first place? What exactly was the merit in the appointment that was so over-riding that all contrary arguments were dismissed? Can anybody explain that? Yes, Mandelson is clever. Yes, he can spin. Yes, he is at ease when in the company of the rich and powerful but none of that is unique to him and the last consideration he has twice managed to turn to his disadvantage rather than the country’s advantage.
He has not yet been charged with any criminal offence in relation to the discharge of his public office and association with Epstein does not make him guilty of Epstein’s own awful behaviour, so I will continue to maintain innocent until proved guilty but through gritted teeth.
I am sorry for those tangentially caught up in this circus as a result of being casually mentioned in the emails. The princesses come to mind. Whatever sort of mother makes a joke about her daughter being on a “shagging weekend”? Then there is Mandelson’s partner who is portrayed as an inveterate sponger. Whether deserved or undeserved, that can hardly have brought harmony into the Mandelson menage. The lesson appears to be never to exchange confidences via email and doing that with government secrets is off the scale of stupidity let alone morality.
But I will not lose sight of my single biggest source of bewilderment: why, oh why, choose Mandelson in the first place?
An article in the Daily Mail suggests that almost half of us are now mending items rather than throwing them away. I am from the generation some of whom darned tights and just about all of whom darned socks, mended hems and sewed on buttons. In the days before manufacturers were legally compelled to attach plugs to their electrical products, we all knew how to fit one and how to mend a fuse. If there was a power cut, we could not solve it just by flicking a switch but had to fiddle about with fuse wire.
For more complicated tasks such as mending irons or Hoovers, we would take them to a shop to be repaired but gradually those sorts of shops have disappeared. However in their place have now come online “how to” videos giving step by step guides to doing these jobs oneself and if the traditional ironmongers are now few and far between, any part can be ordered over the net. So a combination of thrift, sentimentality and environmental responsibility has set 41% of us giving fixing a go.
The advent of the how-to video also proves what I have long contended: trying to stem the tide of change is as hopeless as were the efforts of King Canute and also that change is rarely as bad as we fear. I was not yet born when the motor car replaced the horse, putting grooms, riding instructors, saddlers and livery stables out of work but creating jobs for mechanics, salesmen, petrol pump attendants and manufacturers as well as making us more mobile.
I was very much around when the computer replaced the typing pool, severely reducing the requirement for traditional secretaries. But the computer spawned a raft of new jobs in programming, problem-solving, sales and manufacture.
When I was a new MP, I bought a delightful cottage in a picturesque village in my constituency. The village hummed, having four pubs, a butcher, a baker (alas,no candlestick maker!), a post office, a grocer, newsagent, hairdresser and ironmonger.
By the time I retired they had all gone with the exception of two pubs. Why? Because people did not use them. In some cases shopkeepers just retired but in most cases the supermarket had taken over. Every time the general store was about to close, the village would rally round with petitions and even money but the one thing people would not do was the one thing which would have saved it: shop there.
The same thing is now happening in town high streets. Exorbitant rates and lack of parking have played an enormous part but so long as there was no choice, consumers went there and there was custom. Now there is a big choice with on line shopping and doorstep delivery. The same is true of banks. It is all very well demanding they stay open but with on line banking and automated cash withdrawals, the custom just ain’t there.
We would not now recognise the way our grannies shopped and future generations may well ask “Gran, what was a high street?”
Sacrificing your senior aides rarely saves you. The departure of Dominic Cummings did not save Boris, nor Nick Timothy’s save the awful Theresa May and I doubt if Morgan McSweeney’s will save Starmer. If you are confronted with a pack of angry wolves then, sure, throwing them a lump of meat might distract them briefly but soon they will look up and see their main prey: you.
Were I Starmer, I would be deciding what to do on the back benches. The baying and howling of the pack will soon be deafening.
Heaven spare us. A fifteen year-old boy has been arrested on suspicion of attempted murder after attacking a teacher and the school being sent into lockdown. Does it not make you long for the days when the worst behaviour teachers had to confront was talking in class or running in the corridors?
Statistics show that violent attacks on teachers grew to 800 and rose by a fifth in the space of a year. Why? What is the influence which is driving this? I would take a large bet on drugs as a major factor.
We have had rain for so long that any minute now I expect to see Noah’s ark floating up the garden. Dartmoor is covered by so thick a mist that I cannot see beyond my hedge and in places not even that far! The birds, when not hiding in their nests, are lugubrious and the cat is grumpy. The sheep and ponies are nowhere to be seen and nobody seems to talk about anything else except the weather. Everybody and everything is fed-up.
And those cheerful souls at the Met Office say it is going to go on….and on. I don’t know which is worse: the prospect of this Labour government for another three years or the prospect of this weather for another fortnight.
Thanks for reading. I will be back in a few days.
Have you tried AI ?
Thank You for your encouraging words and always giving us a ray of Sunshine ☀️
I sincerely hope that we can get a much faster result from this Nightmare in SW1