Alex Massie is Scotland Editor of The Spectator.
According to the US military, sporting a Casio F-91W wristwatch* is a telling sign that you may be up to no good. Indeed, you may well be a member of al-Qaeda or one of its affiliates. Other things that raise suspicions: satellite phones, bundles of cash, military transceivers and, um, “secret notes”. Naturally, this recalls
Tyler Cowen has a fairly downbeat assessment of the UK economy’s likely future performance (manufacturing base eroded, tourism not enough, too dependent on finance etc) but he makes a pair of characteristically good points about trimming public spending: 1. The case for the cuts is not that they will spur growth, but rather forestall a
Granted, Dave is no Muhammad Ali* and the idea of comparing Ed Miliband to George Foreman is one of the more preposterous notions ever conceived by man. Nevertheless, I wonder if Cameron, backed by his cornermen George and Nick, are playing rope-a-dope with Labour. This may not have been what they envisaged when they took
Since Donald Trump and the Birthers are everywhere today, I wonder if Alex Salmond winces at the memory of being described by Trump as “an amazing man”? I hope so. For Salmond’s role in the saga of Trump’s plans to build a golf course and, just as importantly, hundreds of “villas” on one of the
What’s this? Oh, look, it’s President Obama’s “long-form” birth certificate and you can see it in all its fraudulent glory here. Will this put an end to “birtherism”? How can it since birtherism is impervious to reality? Dan Pfeiffer, White House Communications Director, argues: At a time of great consequence for this country – when
Robert Gates, the US Secretary of Defense, is stepping down and will be replaced, it is reported today, by Leon Panetta. Panetta, currently head of the CIA will in turn be succeeded by General David Petraeus. Gates of course is an ex-CIA guy himself but these latest appointments make it clearer than ever that CIA
That, Watson, was the remarkable thing about the Royal Wedding: the dog barked and still no-one heard it. You can scarcely open a paper this week without encountering yet another thumbsucker on the future of the monarchy. Most of these, such as this New York Times effort from John Burns, suggest the old ship needs
Ryan Lizza’s New Yorker article on the development of Barack Obama’s approach to foreign policy is, as always, full of interestig stuff even if, perhaps unavoidably, I suspect it depends a little too heavily upon the Slaughter-Power approach. Nevertheless, Ryan gets to the heart of Obama’s presidency – or at least the style of it
I don’t think this is a very good idea: Senior staffers in Ed Miliband’s office started briefing Scottish hacks last night that Miliband is now going to take a much more “hands on” approach to the campaign. Miliband has only made one, brief appearance in the campaign so far. But he and Ed Balls are
I agree with Matt Yglesias: this Canadian Conservative hit on Michael Ignatieff is great*: *I mean great as in thoroughly, entertainingly, usefully reprehensible…
Here are Lester and Earl with the boys and, bless ’em, a lovely little sales pitch to put everyone in the mood for some old time harmony. Since it’s Easter this seems like a good time to sing I’m On My Way to Canaan’s Land…
Low name-recognition and his dangerously sensible opinions hamper Gary Johnson’s bid for the Presidency but so, alas, does his background. New Mexico, delightful though it is, just isn’t a good place from which to run for national office. Small states do not produce many presidential contenders and Bill Clinton is, once again, the exception to
The sensitive chaps at the CRS are always up for a fight. This time it’s their turn to battle the French government: The notorious Compagnies Républicaines de Sécurité, or CRS, are outraged at an official decree stating they can no longer drink wine or beer with their meals. Until now, a civilised tipple was part
It’s not at all fair to call Gary Johnson the pot-candidate but that’s how the former governor of New Mexico is going to be known, to the extent he is known at all, in this depressing, currently-witless, Republican primary. From a personal point of view I give not even half a hoot about marijuana or
I despair. Or, if it makes any of us happier, I give up. When even a chap as intelligent as my friend Daniel Korski completely misunderstands everything about the Alternative Vote I can only conclude that the game’s a bogey. It’s done and First Past the Post will be with us for at least another
There is, I confess, little pressing need to post this clip from The Happiest Days of Your Life beyond the fact that a) it is always good to see Alastair Sim in action and b) this thought was triggered by this, entirely unrelated, story* in the Scotsman which quotes the head of Universities Scotland –
Neil Lennon, the Celtic manager, is not normally an especially sympathetic figure. But so what? Here’s the big news from Scotland today: Three prominent figures associated with Celtic Football Club have been sent potentially lethal home-made letter bombs. Celtic manager Neil Lennon, his QC Paul McBride and the politician Trish Godman, a Celtic supporter, were
Sure, the Scottish edition of the Sun splashes with Play It Again Salm as it endorses the SNP but its Irish sibling has a much better story: River Beast’s Rampage and Farmer Attacked by Furbag are just extra, glorious, titillating teasers. But this is what happens when you forsake the Horse Outside for a
Severin Carrell reports that tomorrow’s edition of the Sun will endorse Alex Salmond and the SNP. This should not surprise anyone. I suspect most of the Scottish press will support, albeit with significant qualifications, the Nationalists. The most significant of those qualifications is that this is a Holyrood election, not a Westminster one. Endorsing the
The only thing that has been proved by this referendum on changing the electoral system used for Westminster elections is that referendums are a hopeless way of deciding these matters. Neither the politicians nor the press have distinguished themselves during an affair that’s been distinguished by the mendacity of almost all the protagonists, the hysteria