So did Dave enjoy his brief break in Ibiza? Not if Rupert Murdoch could help it. Rupe declared on Twitter that the Woolwich atrocity would be a personal test of Cameron’s leadership. ‘Could save him or finish him if he mishandles.’ Three days later the Aussie ref flourished a yellow card. ‘With UK on terror alert, Cameron on holiday. Unbelievable.’ The following morning, by an extraordinary coincidence, the Sun splashed on a picture of a tanned and smirking Cameron next to the headline. ‘Crisis? I’m off to Ibiza.’ Rupert’s quest for revenge goes on.
Poor old Dimbers has lost the plot. First, as a BBC hack, David Dimbleby is required to keep his comments about elected politicians impartial. But he betrayed that sacred trust this week by calling Boris Johnson ‘disgusting’ and ‘disgraceful’ for smashing a few breakables while on a Bullingdon bender at Oxford. Even more shocking is the news that Dimbleby himself joined the Bullingdon but ‘never broke windows or got wildly drunk’. Has he no idea how our great institutions work?
Coo, it’s been a busy week at the Department for Business. Monday was a bank holiday, Tuesday was a ‘special’ day off, and Friday was a day of ‘industrial action’ called by the civil service union. I’m told quite a few staffers took the intervening days off as well. A cabinet insider explains, ‘It’s part of our drive to boost British business.’
Fancy a snifter at Headingley? The Sun reveals that cricket fans at Yorkshire’s home ground are in the habit of sloping off to ‘powder their noses’ during play. Oh the pity of it. Those poor tabloid hacks scraping toilet seats for traces of Charlie, when they could be relaxing in the press-box sipping ale and enjoying the thud of leather on willow.
Sloth descends on the Critics’ Circle. Heather Neill, secretary of the Drama Section, is badgering members to show a bit more enthusiasm for the regular summits arranged between reviewers and Britain’s top theatre directors. Ms Neill writes urgently to remind members about ‘the difficulty of inviting distinguished guests to meetings as so few people seem to be free to attend’. She reveals that the latest gathering attracted just eight critics and featured ‘an informative and enjoyable session with David Lan, artistic director of the Young Vic. (The poor attendance was an embarrassment, however.)’ But all is not lost. The fearless Ms Neill is keen to arrange more of these conferences. ‘We had a number of names on our list in the hope of better attendance,’ she hints. The names include such superstars as Greg Doran, boss of the RSC, Rupert Goold, director of the highly praised BBC film Macbeth, and Thea Sharrock, who masterminded the West End’s latest mega-hit, The Bodyguard. Come on you reviewers. Show a smidgeon of interest.
With the criminal justice system about to be privatised, the hunt is on to find commercial sponsors. I’m told that Black & Decker are interested in supplying gavels to high courts, provided the judge yells out the brand name with each whack of the hammer. Jury boxes will be assembled from Ikea flat packs. And witnesses will vow to tell ‘the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth’ with their right hand solemnly laid on a case of Oddbins claret.
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