
Richard Madeley has narrated this article for you to listen to.
Would-be veep Tim Walz has opened Pandora’s box with his use of the W-word to characterise Donald Trump and his running mate (no sniggering at the back: this W is for ‘weird’). Because, let’s face it, a heck of a lot of politicians are way-out weird, aren’t they? It’s practically part of the job description. If we start calling them all out on it, the currency’s going to devalue fast. My thesaurus devotes nearly half a page to synonyms for weird. ‘Freaky. Wacko. Odd. Eccentric. Crazy. Off the wall. Out to lunch…’ Well, sure, that’s pretty much Trump to a T. He is uniquely odd, but those adjectives neatly summarise plenty of politicos this side of the pond too. Liz Truss. (Oh, come on, don’t get all Truss-defensive – you know she was weird.) Theresa May. May closed the lid of the weird-box firmly over her own head when she said the naughtiest thing she’d ever done was ‘run through fields of wheat’. That’s a really weird thing to say. As for her excruciating conference Maybot dance – I rest my case.
It’s funny, but all the party leaders I can think of that I’d describe as weird seem to have been on the right. Jeremy Corbyn wasn’t weird, he was cracked. Neil Kinnock was delusional. James Callaghan was bank-manager boring. Harold Wilson was dull as ditchwater too (apart from his private life – not so much weird as ‘way-hey!’). But spinning back still further on the right, Ted Heath was proper weird. That laugh! Head and shoulders pumping up and down like a supercharged nodding donkey. As for his private life… what private life? Did bachelor Ted even have one? Apart from his passion for classical music and sailing, it’s a blank canvas, even today. Again, weird.
But as I said, anyone who chooses a life in politics is fundamentally weird. Not on planet normal. So now that Donald has belatedly agreed to a TV debate with Kamala Harris, if she throws the whole weird thing at him, there’s really only one riposte: ‘And your point is?’ But of course, windy Donald will go off on a tangled tangent. Maybe he’ll reprise his baffling ‘late, great Hannibal Lecter’ line. Why? Because he’s weird.
‘You know I’m no art critic, but I know what I hate’ (Monty Burns, The Simpsons). I feel the same about the Olympics. All right, maybe ‘hate’ is a bit strong, but I was bemused by some recently included categories. Breakdancing? Seriously? I thought allowing skateboarding into the Olympics was bizarre enough (Is it a sport? Athletics? Skateboarding’s basically mucking about on a super-sized roller skate.) But breakdancing? The founding fathers of the Olympics must be spinning in their Greek graves. Presumably not on their heads, though.
Some of the more liberal-minded insist that there’s no proof that the swift, stiff sentences dished out to rioters has been a deterrent. I’d say that it’s pretty much a textbook example of cause and effect. You only have to look at the reaction of convicted rioters when they were told that they wouldn’t be home in time for Christmas. Many burst into tears. One thirtysomething rock-tosser sobbed for his mum. I’d bet the cost of the clean-up operation that none will venture near a riot again. And many of those planning to cause mayhem at the weekend will have had an abrupt change of mind.
Sorry to sound like an old-fashioned reactionary, but it’s undeniable that exemplary sentencing deters re-offending (and others contemplating similar crimes) in a way that ‘soft’ punishment doesn’t. I was a court reporter back when suspended sentences were much less common, but I vividly recall the reactions of those handed one. Yes, there was relief, even gratitude, now and then. But most miscreants would smirk or punch the air, expression and body language unmistakable: ‘Yeah! Got away with it!’ Until last week, we seemed to have all but forgotten the crucial component of deterrence in sentencing. Sadly, I’m sure the re-awakening will be brief.
Of all sports, boxing has the greatest disparity between males and females. Boxers with XY chromosomes punch, on average, 162 per cent harder than those with XX. So you don’t put them in the ring together, any more than you’d match a heavyweight with a welterweight. Unless, of course, you’re the International Olympic Committee. I’m with Sharron Davies. She says that the ‘insane’ gender row which engulfed Olympic boxing amounts to ‘genuine neglect’ by the IOC, and that we’re ‘on the cusp’ of a female athlete being killed. She’s right. You don’t define this by what’s on someone’s passport. You check their chromosomes. XX marks the spot. XY marks the other one. It’s that simple.
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