I say, our very own monster!
THE POMS claim to have discovered their own Loch Ness Monster, a long, hump-backed animal living in Lake Windermere which is, of course, in the Wordsworth country, the Lake District.
In the past four years there have been seven reported sightings of the creature, now nicknamed Bow-Nessie.
Windermere hotel owner, Thomas Noblett, describes a strange encounter in the water: "All of a sudden I felt something brush past my legs like a giant fish.
"And then I was lifted up by a three-foot wave. I've no idea what it was."
Yes. At Loch Ness you find similar sightings – some from hotel people who have an interest in promoting the mystery, others from ordinary Scotsmen on their way home late on a moonlit night after sampling the water of life, known also as uisge bhetha.
Now a TV crew have been out on Windermere trying to film the monster. During a sweep of the lake, the team spotted a strange 14-metre long disturbance in the water but were unable to detect anything on sonar.
I myself see no reason to scoff at the idea of a marine animal lurking in Loch Ness. What arrogance for us to believe we have discovered and catalogued every creature on earth.
But the Windermere monster requires careful scrutiny. Could it not be Gordon Brown lurking about south of the border? And could it be the start of a copycat campaign – English whisky and shortbread, English haggis and a village blacksmith in Carlisle, ready to marry eloping Scottish couples.
The Scots I know are deeply suspicious.
Budgie mafia
THESE budgie people stop at nothing. A top breeder in Britain says his champion bird has been stamped to death in its aviary by a rival and 21 other birds have been stolen.
I write this with some trepidation because one of my predecessors was once threatened with lynching by the Durban budgie-fanciers for suggesting that budgies are not able to talk.
I will not walk into the same trap. I will not raise the ire of the budgie-fanciers. Why, only the other day I was in a beachfront flat where a budgie was singing an aria from Italian opera – I think it was La Pretty Boy Traviata – and his articulation was perfect.
However, tricky and sensitive – and potentially dangerous - as the issue of budgies might be, one cannot shy away from the facts.
Andrew Pooley, who lives in Cornwall, one morning found his champion budgie, Penmead Pride, had been crushed to death and 21 others - worth £2,000 - stolen. He is convinced he has been targeted by a rival.
This was the night before the Cornwall Budgerigar Show, where the bird had been crowned champion last year. Mr Pooley was forced to withdraw because of the loss of his prize birds.
"They had the gall to kill my pride and joy. This was a deliberate act of sabotage," he says. "I'm devastated. I feel sick."
As I say, these budgie people make Al Capone look like Mary Poppins.
Folorn fatty
They take health and safety very seriously in Britain these days. School sports have been all but halted in case anyone gets hurt. The Royal Marines have been told to build handrails on their assault course in case somebody stumbles and falls.
Now a fat fellow has been told to retire in case he falls on one of his workmates and squashes him.
Barry Fowers, 51, has taken redundancy from his job of 10 years as a fitter-assembler at a firm in Burton-on-Trent and hopes to lose some weight.
He weighs 190kg and often has to climb on to platforms to perform tasks. He too is afraid he might fall on one of his workmates. The workmates, I gather, are terrified.
The redundancy was negotiated after the company's insurers expressed anxiety about the risk.
Tailpiece
First kid: "I'm worried. My dad works 12 hours a day to give us a nice home and plenty of food. My mum spends the whole day cooking and cleaning for me."
Second kid: "What are you worried about? You've got it made."
First kid: "But what if they try to escape?"
Last word
No tyranny is so irksome as petty tyranny: the officious demands of policemen, government clerks, and electromechanical gadgets.
GRAHAM LINSCOTT
No comments:
Post a Comment