I stayed up late to watch the much-delayed Joe Biden Press Conference, which kicked in at about 00:45. I wish I had a pint of whatever juice they’d given him before he went on—or possibly it was a full blood dope—whatever, it worked. He appeared fluent, cognitive, and old. He’ll be older in three or…
Not Foreign
And the vote goes to…
At its simplest, the range of our political issues, specifically in Lambourn, is pretty narrow, and mainly the normal local, rural ones. We are in the Newbury constituency, so there is probably a large experiential gap between Newbury and, to a lesser extent, Hungerford and our little town. Our issues are those of the countryside,…
None Of The Above
I had forgotten the possibility embraced by a surprising number of democracies or other systems such as that used in Russia: a ballot paper would have a box allowing you to clarify that the presented candidates or parties are simply unelectable in the voters’ opinion. It is based on the principle that the ability to…
A weekend of endless action and promises
Alcohol, TV and sport – that is a reasonable summary of the rest of this summer, as far as I can make out, with a small chance of nuclear fallout. Between now and July 4th—and I have already written Smarmier’s victory speech on the theme of Independence —we have to suffer 247 screen-to-audio-to-print coverage of…
I don’t know about Good – its certainly a very Busy Friday
I was blissfully unaware of the televised racing from my usual lenten posture, which I traditionally adopt at this time of year. Probably weak from 40 days of fasting, I could only see torrential rain and various other Godly visitations through the sackcloth, ashes and palm fronds. Among the plagues visited on us has been…
Parliamentary duplicity, some Grand National tips, and a frictionless potato peeler.
IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES… As luck (entirely the wrong word for what transpired) would have it, I decided at about 6:30 on Wednesday night to see how the Commons was getting on with what passes for political debate these days, and have a gander at the Opposition Day SNP motion in action. It’s…
Green Space, White Space, Grey Lies, a black day.
I went with The Hon the other day to the funeral of Norman Thomas, a proper traditional country farmer. He was three times larger than life; he shot well, hunted hard, farmed profitably (largely thanks to land development), drank prodigiously, partied noisily, and loved horses and racing. (His daughter worked for us and was a…