Dressing down
IT'S AMUSING to see how the PR/image gurus have taken over the British general election.
It was old Etonian Tory leader David Cameron who rather embarrassingly first affected the open-necked shirt while on the stump, to show himself to be a man of the people. Not the kind of shirt that's supposed to be open-necked – a collar and tie shirt with the tie removed. It looks awkward and contrived.
For a while Prime Minister Gordon Brown ignored this fad – but now he has affected it as well. And so has Liberal-Democrat leader Nick Clegg. Wot a bunch of reg'lar proles! The gurus have spoken.
But David Cameron has stayed ahead. While Brown and Clegg went tieless last weekend, Cameron was down to a sweatshirt as he joined a charity walk.
This is wonderful egalitarian stuff. But just as well it's only a few weeks to the election. Any longer and they could end up running around in their Y-fronts.
Those who tweet
READER John Knottenbelt has come to the conclusion that those who tweet and twitter should be known as Twits.
"The operation is aptly named because, just like mossies, sparrows, finches, and the more guttural mynah, a lot is said without much substance - one could say a cacophony rather than the more melodic sounds put out by other birds.
"With what I've seen so far of this form of computer communication, it is aptly named and the users should be known as Twits. Look at the gumph they put out and are unable to retract once this has come back to haunt them.
"One should be careful not to embrace the myriad of new avenues of expressing oneself, as one may just turn out to be the Twit who tweeted too soon. Look before you leap, could be a good by-word, I guess."
John concludes by wishing us all a "splendid autumn".
Thank you. To be followed by the winter of our great content.
Thin ice
I HAVE to confess that I'm on thin ice when it comes to Twitter. I had never heard of this social networking set-up until a girl in America e-mailed me to say she was now on Twitter.
To me this sounded like some sort of happy dust, something like Ecstasy. I sent her a stern response urging her to repent of this folly.
Boy, did I make a fool of myself! Boy, did I get it in the neck!
Tweet! Tweet!
Gridiron
THE DEMOLITION of the Texas Stadium – home for many years of the Dallas Cowboys – made fascinating TV viewing. It took less than a minute for the massive, semi-roofed structure to be reduced to dust and rubble by 50 consecutive dynamite charges. Precision stuff.
I wonder if Naas Botha watched. He had a spell there playing pro gridiron with the Cowboys, chosen for his place-kicking skills.
It might have seemed a bit of a doddle because in gridiron the kicker comes on as a replacement, then leaves again after his kick, successful or otherwise.
Except that in gridiron the kicker gets rushed by the opposition as he moves in to kick and gets knocked flying and trampled if he doesn't look sharp – not like in rugby. It's not such a doddle.
In fact the experience is probably a bit like being caught in the implosion we witnessed on TV. A strange game, gridiron. I've never been able to fathom it. I wonder what Naas thinks.
Fore!
IRENE Emanuel sends in a nice limerick on Tiger.
Old Cheetah Woods was a lover
Who kept his affairs under cover,
But his dalliances ended
When his wife got offended
By how many there were to discover.
Mom by a TKO
MORE from Bill Bryson's Bizarre World (Warner Books):
Aspiring Brazilian boxer Manuel Salgado, aged seventeen, suffered a serious reversal to his career when his mother dragged him out of the ring during a bout in Rio de Janeiro and ordered him to go home and finish his homework.
Tailpiece
A Scotsman is on holiday in New York City. It's a balmy spring day and he's wearing a kilt.
A young woman boldly asks: "Is anything worn beneath your kilt?"
"Nae, lassie. Everything's in pairfect working order!"
Last word
For four-fifths of our history, our planet was populated by pond scum.
GRAHAM LINSCOTT
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