June 22, 2009

Does absence make the heart grow fonder? I’m not so sure. I’ve been away from London for one year, and was dreading the return. The grey sky, the Dickensian streets, the fat-bellied lager louts, the knife culture, Gordon Brown and Peter Mandelson, the coarsest of the coarse Alan Sugar in the House of Lords: a good place to miss, I told myself.

Well, it didn’t last long, my dread of the return. Nicky Haslam in cabaret was a real treat, and Lord Charles Churchill’s idea to turn Nicky into a Cole Porter performer at Bellamy’s was an inspired one. John Standing singing Noël Coward was as brilliant as it gets, and Nicky Haslam crooning Cole Porter was first class. For one brief moment I thought of also going public — I am a stand-up comedian and Nick Scott accompanies me on the piano — but at my advanced age I thought better of it.

The mood kept improving. Last Sunday, on a beautiful sunny day, friends and I drove to Oxfordshire, to Tusmore Park, Wafic and Rosemary Said’s Palladian beauty, where one of Britain’s nicest and most generous couples were celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary. The magical setting, the 200 guests, the delicious food and superb wines combined to remind me that only in Europe can real fun be had in a refined environment. Mind you, the upper-class English help. No matter how grand the occasion, there is always time for schoolboy jokes. That’s the difference with America. Our American cousins somehow think it’s immature to act immature and, in places like Washington DC, it is absolutely verboten. Maybe one day they’ll get it. Where Americans gauge puerile behaviour unacceptably post-graduate, the English rejoice in juvenility as an integral part of their fun. Policemen’s helmets remain for the taking.

Oh yes, I almost forgot. Pug’s Club is to be congratulated for our first knight: Sir Christopher Lee. After 88 years and 250 films, the morons who decide such things finally got around to it. But what about Jeremy Lloyd and many others who deserve the honours handed out to crooks and lawyers by Blair and Brown? Is it possible for a man who gave sugar a bad name to go to the Lords, appointed by an unelected Prime Minister who has handed power over to an unelected man who has twice been forced out of the Cabinet for shady dealings? The mind boggles. Alan Sugar is a disgusting vulgarian who scowls at people who are needy and cannot scowl back, a bully and coward because only cowards bully those under them. Stephen Glover got it exactly right when he said Sugar and that other clown, the cook Gordon Ramsay, inspire him to emigrate to New Zealand. Except that New Zealand is a wonderful place. I’d emigrate to Afghanistan if it was guaranteed that I’d never hear their names again.

Never mind. There are worse things than Sugar and Ramsay but I cannot think of them right now. Perhaps the dwarfish Polly Toynbee deciding who should be prime minister, but that’s just very funny — almost as funny as if Toynbee ran off with Gaddafi who pretends he likes virgins. Yes, it’s good to be back in dear old London, although nothing has changed as far as crime is concerned. Politicians keep lying about crime in Britain, as they lie about everything else. The fatal stabbing of an innocent 16-year-old by three subhuman thugs who postured threateningly in court is a perfect example. The three killers are all sons of African immigrants, their sink-estate patois and arrogance indicative of this government’s total failure in rooting out the causes of crime. What is ironic is that in a best-selling tabloid decrying the murder of the innocent 16-year-old, the following story was about the evils of the BNP.

Perhaps because I’ve been away for a year, I have missed something. Has the BNP been killing innocent 16-year-olds? Is that why moronic columnists are pushing the alarm bells against the party? I have not as yet met one person who is poor and struggling who has not expressed contempt for open borders and unlimited immigration. Things the BNP stands for, along with some other not so nice things. I’ve said it before and will say it until this column is terminated. Politicians will treat the electorate with contempt until we throw them out of office the moment they go back on their word. Cameron is wet and an absolute whore who speaks with a forked tongue. Will he or won’t he hold a referendum no matter what the rest of the European lemmings do? Will he totally stop immigration from Africa, Pakistan and Bangladesh? If any of you are waiting for a straight answer, do please join me next week in Alan Sugar’s house, where he’s conducting a seminar on old-fashioned manners and how properly to address a duke and duchess.


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