Hugo Rifkind Hugo Rifkind

We want our politicians to be human – when they are, we condemn them for it

issue 10 November 2012

Thus finishing his grand survey,

Disgusted Strephon stole away

Repeating in his amorous fits,

Oh! Celia, Celia, Celia shits!

That’s Jonathan Swift, as you’ll know, charting the disappointment of Strephon, the disillusioned peeping Tom. It came to me, though, reading the Mail on Sunday last week. For, therein, I learned that David Cameron had been text-ing Rebekah Brooks. Mainly about horses. In an informal tone. It’s a bloody outrage.

Is it? Isn’t it? I think it must be, otherwise I don’t see why I’d have to know about it. But which is the outrageous part? Cameron sent Brooks a text about riding a horse which read ‘fast, unpredictable and hard to control but fun’. This is supposed to be terribly amusing, because it also sounds like it could have been about shagging.

Although it doesn’t really, does it? In fact, the only circumstances I can think of in which one might describe sex in such a manner would be if one were reviewing it, on a sex-reviewing website, a bit like -TripAdvisor.

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