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Version 0 Version 1
Your starter for 10 … say C-H-E-E-S-E Your starter for 10 … say C-H-E-E-S-E
(35 minutes later)
MondayMonday
Grudging congratulations to Peterhouse College, Cambridge, for winning University Challenge. Grudging because the first rule of watching UC is to always be on the side of anyone but Oxbridge. The second rule, which comes into force when, as with the final, both teams are from Oxbridge is to back the side with the lesser sense of obvious entitlement. I lost on both counts. Grudging also because I am hugely envious of the students’ ability to recall a vast array of pointless information. My own University Challenge experience ended in abject shame a few years ago after I was asked to represent Exeter University in a Christmas Special. After 15 minutes we were trailing by about 90 points to 10 to what was essentially a one-man Glasgow team – no hard feelings there – when a starter question calling for the correct spelling of mozzarella came up. First on the buzzer for once, I started, “M-O-Z-A ...” “Wrong,” yelled Paxo with rather too much pleasure. If you replay the episode you can hear my family laughing in the audience.Grudging congratulations to Peterhouse College, Cambridge, for winning University Challenge. Grudging because the first rule of watching UC is to always be on the side of anyone but Oxbridge. The second rule, which comes into force when, as with the final, both teams are from Oxbridge is to back the side with the lesser sense of obvious entitlement. I lost on both counts. Grudging also because I am hugely envious of the students’ ability to recall a vast array of pointless information. My own University Challenge experience ended in abject shame a few years ago after I was asked to represent Exeter University in a Christmas Special. After 15 minutes we were trailing by about 90 points to 10 to what was essentially a one-man Glasgow team – no hard feelings there – when a starter question calling for the correct spelling of mozzarella came up. First on the buzzer for once, I started, “M-O-Z-A ...” “Wrong,” yelled Paxo with rather too much pleasure. If you replay the episode you can hear my family laughing in the audience.
TuesdayTuesday
Zac Goldsmith’s shambolic campaign to get himself elected as London mayor has taken yet another turn for the worse with the release of a campaign video showing him looking awkward with lots of people from differentminority ethnic backgrounds against a backing track in English, Hindi, Urdu, Punjabi, Mandarin and Bengali. The lyrics include such classic lines as “Zac Goldsmith he will win”, “He is worthy of our appreciation and is very brave” and “Let all communities unite”. That’s all communities except the Muslims, of course, as the whole tenor of Goldsmith’s campaign in recent weeks has been “Sadiq Khan is a Muslim and all Muslims are terrorists”. Goldsmith is a man hell-bent on self destruction in his desire to prove there is no obvious connection between having £300m in the bank and intelligence: he has now alienated 50% of his electorate by telling Grazia he isn’t a feminist. Zac Goldsmith’s shambolic campaign to get himself elected as London mayor has taken yet another turn for the worse with the release of a campaign video showing him looking awkward with lots of people from different minority ethnic backgrounds against a backing track in English, Hindi, Urdu, Punjabi, Mandarin and Bengali. The lyrics include such classic lines as “Zac Goldsmith he will win”, “He is worthy of our appreciation and is very brave” and “Let all communities unite”. That’s all communities except the Muslims, of course, as the whole tenor of Goldsmith’s campaign in recent weeks has been “Sadiq Khan is a Muslim and all Muslims are terrorists”. Goldsmith is a man hell-bent on self destruction in his desire to prove there is no obvious connection between having £300m in the bank and intelligence: he has now alienated 50% of his electorate by telling Grazia he isn’t a feminist.
WednesdayWednesday
As if to prove that Goldsmith doesn’t have a monopoly on idiocy, Labour has upped its game by advertising a vacancy for a spokesperson to work in Jeremy Corbyn’s office that came with the proviso that the £41,000 a year post would last “for the period only that Corbyn is the leader of the Labour party, or until 31 December 2016, whichever is sooner”. If nothing else, the job interviews should be quite entertaining. “I was really hoping that Jeremy might be gone in the next few weeks, but if he really does last till the end of the year then I suppose I could stick around.”As if to prove that Goldsmith doesn’t have a monopoly on idiocy, Labour has upped its game by advertising a vacancy for a spokesperson to work in Jeremy Corbyn’s office that came with the proviso that the £41,000 a year post would last “for the period only that Corbyn is the leader of the Labour party, or until 31 December 2016, whichever is sooner”. If nothing else, the job interviews should be quite entertaining. “I was really hoping that Jeremy might be gone in the next few weeks, but if he really does last till the end of the year then I suppose I could stick around.”
ThursdayThursday
There can be few things the Queen wanted to do less on her 90th birthday than have a whole load of lengthy functions with people she doesn’t know or much care about. My own experience of 90th birthday parties are that they are best kept short and sweet. My mother’s 80th was quite a loud and jolly affair but when we came to celebrate her 90th a couple of years ago things had changed. At least half of those who had been at the 80th had died in the intervening period and a great many of those who were still alive were suffering from dementia and other life-threatening conditions. Nor were those, like my mother, who were lucky enough to still enjoy relatively good health much up for a grand affair: my mum gets tired easily and just wanted a quiet lunch with her family and a few friends in a country pub. So instead of insisting on endless eulogies and pageantry that are almost exclusively for the benefit of politicians and dignitaries, perhaps the best way the country could express its gratitude to the Queen would have been to leave her alone to enjoy her birthday in peace. There can be few things the Queen wanted to do less on her 90th birthday than have a whole load of lengthy functions with people she doesn’t know or much care about. My own experience of 90th birthday parties are that they are best kept short and sweet. My mother’s 80th was quite a loud and jolly affair but when we came to celebrate her 90th a couple of years ago things had changed. At least half of those who had been at the 80th had died in the intervening period and a great many of those who were still alive were suffering from dementia and other life-threatening conditions. Nor were those, like my mother lucky enough to still enjoy relatively good health, much up for a grand affair: my mum gets tired easily and just wanted a quiet lunch with her family and a few friends in a country pub. So instead of insisting on endless eulogies and pageantry that are almost exclusively for the benefit of politicians and dignitaries, perhaps the best way the country could express its gratitude to the Queen would have been to leave her alone to enjoy her birthday in peace.
FridayFriday
It now turns out that the diesel car I bought in the belief that it would be relatively kind to the planet is actually doing its best to kill hundreds and thousands of people in south London. It’s also odds on it will end up costing me yet more money as I will never be able to sell it unless I spend a small fortune modifying its emissions. If so, it will follow a long tradition of cars I’ve owned that have turned into potential death traps. I once had a Saab that had an alarming habit of losing power unexpectedly when I was cruising at 70 mph on a motorway, making me a sitting duck for any body behind who was tailgating me. It took Saab about six months to accept there was anything abnormal about that: about the time it took them to work out why the satnav used to say the car was on the football pitches on Tooting Bec Common when it was actually parked outside my house. My most alarming experience, though, was when I was driving my old mini down the M4 in the late 1970s and noticed there were flames coming out of the boot. The jack had fallen against the battery and was busy welding itself to the metal. Happy days. It now turns out that the diesel car I bought in the belief that it would be relatively kind to the planet is actually doing its best to kill hundreds and thousands of people in south London. It’s also odds on it will end up costing me yet more money as I will never be able to sell it unless I spend a small fortune modifying its emissions. If so, it will follow a long tradition of cars I’ve owned that have turned into potential death traps. I once had a Saab that had an alarming habit of losing power unexpectedly when I was cruising at 70 mph on a motorway, making me a sitting duck for any body behind who was tailgating me. It took Saab about six months to accept there was anything abnormal about that – about the time it took them to work out why the satnav used to say the car was on the football pitches on Tooting Bec Common when it was actually parked outside my house. My most alarming experience, though, was when I was driving my old Mini down the M4 in the late 1970s and noticed there were flames coming out of the boot. The jack had fallen against the battery and was busy welding itself to the metal. Happy days.
Digested week, digested: Yes we can stay in EuropeDigested week, digested: Yes we can stay in Europe