Rod Liddle is associate editor of The Spectator.
I suppose it is largely our fault that most politicians are mentally ill. We eviscerate them daily and one assumes that some of the poison eventually seeps through and begins to affect their central nervous systems. Being held up to ridicule for their incompetences, being dependent for their livelihoods upon the whims of idiots, and
I see that Labour is now fifteen points ahead in the latest opinion poll, a Populus poll for the Times. While the Tories have dropped four points on the previous month, it still seems to me that the bulk of that Labour lead is rightly disaffected Liberal Democrats: they are down to ten per cent.
It’s about time we revamped the rather stale format of the BBC film review show, the one that has that Nina Simone signature tune and was presented by Barry Norman and more latterly Jonathan Ross. I don’t even know if the programme is still extant. Anyway, my idea is for a new review show which
My father once told me that tolerance was a great and precious British virtue, and that we shouldn’t waste it on homosexuals. Even at the time this struck me as a somewhat illiberal and unkind point of view to which I privately objected. It was easier though, back then, to hold such ‘homophobic’ beliefs because
Here’s an idea for a series which could run and run: hypocritical corporate toss. The chocolate and pet food manufacturer Mars has demanded that a chippy in Stonehaven must put up a disclaimer in its shop advising that Mars does not approve of the restaurant’s delicacy, deep fried Mars bars. If I were the owner
I got an invitation the other day to attend the launch of some incendiary tract about Europe published by a think-tank. I get quite a few of these, especially stuff from what was once the Tory far right (and by ‘far’ I mean ‘far’ as in sort of Alpha Centauri, i.e. more easily measurable in
I got an invitation the other day to attend the launch of some incendiary tract about Europe published by a think-tank. I get quite a few of these, especially stuff from what was once the Tory far right (and by ‘far’ I mean ‘far’ as in sort of Alpha Centauri, i.e. more easily measurable in
I’ve been in Scarborough, working on a story. Stayed in a perfectly nice hotel and this morning came down for my breakfast. I was greeted at the entrance to the dining room by a waitress who addressed me thus: “Good morning sir. Have you had breakfast before?” I said well, yes, I’m 52, you know.
There was a news report on BBC South East last week expressing outrage that two people had not been arrested and charged for posting allegedly ‘homophobic’ comments on Twitter about the gay fans of the football club Brighton and Hove Albion. The reporter was incensed that charges had not been brought and the miscreants duly
Here’s a mystery which has been keeping me awake at night recently. Why do people who live on islands, and even more so very small islands, tend to be grotesquely overweight? I stumbled across this strange apparent correlation the other evening, while sporcling. This is what I do in my spare moments these days, in
Some mad black woman has been arrested for screaming racist abuse about white people on a London bus. She said repeatedly that she hated whites, and was only in this country because ‘your fucking people brought my people here.’ I assume the courts will have to send her to prison, just so that they can
The supporters of that exhibitionist monkey Julian Assange are becoming ever more bizarre. George Galloway MP, for example, has been sounding like a High Court judge in 1973: those women were not ‘raped’, he says of the accusations against Assange; calling that sort of thing rape diminishes the concept of rape — it was just
So, two years in prison for the members of Pussy Riot as a consequence of their foul and insulting behaviour inside a church. The western world is outraged and takes the severity of the sentence as evidence that Russia is a totalitarian state where everyone does as Putin wants. Thank God we’re not like that over here, huh?
There are some things to be said in favour of the planet Mars. Its atmosphere contains almost no oxygen, the temperature in winter reaches minus 143˚C, it is exceptionally arid and dusty, and any human travelling to the place would receive sufficient solar radiation to be lit up like a Russian dissident. My problem with
If you get a chance, try to pick up the latest Civitas book: Mind Forg’d Manacles. By Jon Gower Davies, it’s an analysis of the effect of the Macpherson report into the death of the black teenager Stephen Lawrence and the aftermath. Davies is rightly tough on Macpherson and swats away the charge of “institutional
I have hugely enjoyed the French verdict on London 2012: the whole thing was botched and all our athletes cheated. They really are the most ghastly people. The only positive thing about France, on a personal note, is that if the country did not exist I would have been more likely to have been in
The Grauniad is running an Olympic medal table to show where all the countries would be if it was weighted for GDP. Needless to say, we do not figure, nor less the yanks. It is a reminder that we are rich scum and our victories have been achieved on the backs of the poor, the
The London 2012 Olympics, seen from a distance of more than a thousand miles, is a peculiar, shimmering thing. Our capital city dominates the news every night but, for reasons which I cannot explain, the Croatians are not exultant about the fact that we have won lots of gold medals at rowing and stuff. It
Sorry I haven’t been blogging much recently – I’m on the annual family holiday. We’re in Croatia, on one of those islands they’re terribly proud of, roasting like pigs on a spit. Truth is I’ve regularly surfed the papers online to find something interesting to write about, but the only thing that seems to be
In the end, after sniping and carping and moaning for months about how ghastly the Olympics was going to be, I thought the opening ceremony rather wonderful and therefore felt ashamed of myself for having been so aloof. I had not expected such a breadth of vision, nor such beauty, nor indeed the copious room
