Am I allowed to say this? Hell, I’m going to anyway.
Am I allowed to say this? Hell, I’m going to anyway. I’ll deny it if it ever gets me into trouble. I’ll claim The Spectator mistakenly put my byline on top of a column by somebody else. ‘Wasn’t me,’ I’ll say, when the extraordinary rendition SWAT team kicks down my door. ‘Must have been Liddle. He sounds the sort. I wrote the other one that week, maybe about the royal wedding. Nice balaclava, by the way.’
So here goes. I watched the American crowds, cheering into the night about the death of Osama bin Laden, and my first, overwhelming, involuntary reaction was to sneer. There. I’ve said it.
It wasn’t a new sort of sneer. It’s a sneer with which I’m quite familiar. The thing is, I haven’t previously found myself making it at images of Washington or Times Square.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in