Gstaad
Blah, blah, blah! I’ve heard it all before. We are all swivel-eyed fanatics, racists and right-wing extremists. And we’re also bigots because we believe in Jesus Christ. Today is my name day, the Day of the Assumption, but please don’t ask me how my parents got Taki out of it — Panagia, Panagiotaki, Taki — that is all I can tell you in my limited English.
So I stepped out into my garden overlooking the wooded hills of Gstaad early this morning and began yelling Allahu Akbar at the top of my voice, like those nice guys do down south and also in London, Amsterdam, Brussels, Paris, Stockholm, Copenhagen and other major western cities they pay for their keep. Allah, Allah, I kept screaming, until some Swiss walkers heard me and motioned me to quiet down. ‘Mais enfin, monsieur, nous ne sommes pas dans une mosque,’ said the rudest of them all. Good old Swiss burgers. They will pay for their politeness and tolerance sooner rather than later. Geneva is full of Africans and Muslims, a powder keg but not as yet. Here in Gstaad it’s fine while out of season. Come August, the southern types arrive, especially after London got too hot for them last week. What a story.
Even an ex-sainted one, Boris, got it wrong. The cuts, what cuts? The great Maggie came to power with one priority. The unions had to take second place to parliament, no ifs or buts about it. The idiotic Scargill gave her the opportunity, and we know the rest. Then the do-gooders began to chip away at her, and before you knew it the criminal justice system broke down and now we have a Prime Minister talking tough again.
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