Sunday, July 17, 2016

The Idler, Monday, July 18, 2016

Those porky-pies

BORIS bounces back – or so they were all saying when Boris Johnson got the foreign

secretary spot in Britain, having been manoeuvred out of running for the premiership.

But is this really such a bounce-back? Boris led the Brexit campaign, during which he

told a lot of porky-pies about Europe. It turns out he had no plan at all for actually

disengaging Britain from the EU.

Now he has to deal with European counterparts who are perfectly aware of the porky-

pies and will have a greatly diminished regard for him all round. He at least won't have to

negotiate the terms of disengagement – that's the responsibility of a specially created

ministry and it could take years – but there could be an uncomfortable atmosphere when

he does interact.

Then there's the rest of the world. Boris will also have to engage with other world

leaders. As a columnist he's already written about a few of them. Some examples.

 On President Obama: "He's a part-Kenyan president with an ancestral dislike of the

British empire."

 On Hillary Clinton: "She's got dyed blonde hair and pouty lips, and a steely blue stare,

like a sadistic nurse in a mental hospital."

On Donald Trump: He's "clearly out of his mind" and his "ill-informed comments are

complete and utter nonsense."

 On Vladimir Putin: "He looks a bit like Dobby the House Elf."

"Ha, ha, ha! Dobby the House Elf! No hard feelings, Vlad, it was just a joke on a quiet

day."

Theresa Machiavelli, er Theresa May, is showing herself to perhaps have a wicked

sense of humour.

10 Downing Street

INVESTMENT analyst Dr James Greener is impressed by the way prime ministers come and go

in Britain, with minimal fuss.

"Perhaps the most amazing thing about the clinical way in which Britain switches prime ministers

is the handover of the official residence – 10 Downing Street.

"Suddenly there was David Cameron and his family on the doorstep waving to the cameras.

Amazingly none of the children was tapping out a status update on a cellphone and Mrs C wasn't

clutching a supermarket bag stuffed with still warm pyjamas and half a bottle of milk rescued

from the fridge on the way out.

"Mind you they probably had to leave the milk behind for Larry the cat who, it turns out, is on the

permanent staff at No 10 and doesn't shift digs just because of mere political firestorms.

"So no sooner had the family shuffled down the street to be taken away into obscurity than the

new key holder pitched up with her startled looking husband in tow. After the waving and

smiling, the big black door mysteriously swung open and the pair bolted inside. Not even a duffle

bag of overnight things in sight. All very classy."

Yes, it recalls Churchill's comment when he lost the 1947 election in Britain to Clement Attlee.

"Tomorrow an empty cab will pull up outside No 10 Downing Street and Mr Attlee will get out."

Running rugby

SOME wonderful running rugby over the weekend. The Sharks threw caution to the

winds against the Wolverines, great handling and tackling on both sides, and a pleasing

enough spectacle though the outcome never seemed in doubt. The Japanese low tackle

proves this is the way to do it.

But the Lions came unstuck in Argentina with their second-string side, which means we

have to travel to Wellington, down in the Land of the Long White Underpants, for the

quarter-final instead of just to Ellis Park.

Oh boy, the jetlag factor. But look, we beat the Hurricanes at Kings Park. We just have

to do it again. Vasbyt!

Up at Kearsney, the Craven Week final – Western Province beat the Lions - provided a

pulsating end to a pulsating week of schoolboy rugby. The overseas talent scouts no

doubt enjoyed it as much as the rest of us.

Quite a few of the coaches were quartered at DHS, just across from the Street Shelter

for the Over-Forties, and were vocal in their praise of Kearsney and the way the whole

thing had been organised. That's nice to know.

Tailpiece

"Knock, knock!"

"Who's there?"

"Fifi."

"Fifi who?"

"Fifi fiefie fofo fum. I smell the blood of an Englishman!"

Last word

An executive is a person who always decides; sometimes he decides correctly, but he always

decides. – John H Patterson

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