Society

Tuesday

Matthew Dancona

Reports: Osama bin Laden has been ‘located’

The Dubai-based satellite TV channel Al Arabiya is reporting that Osama Bin Laden has been “located” by US intelligence in the Kararakoram – a mountain range that spans the borders of Pakistan, the Kashmir and China (K2 is one of its peaks). There was a high-level meeting last week in Doha including General Petraeus, the recently-nominated Commander of US Central Command, and it is reasonable to speculate that – if there is truth to the report – it flows from this piece of intelligence. Whether the latest rumours about the tracking down of OBL have foundation will quickly become apparent. If they do have substance, Al Arabiya will have scored

James Forsyth James Forsyth

Grand Central Guignol

At the risk of drawing a sneering response from the Rail Minister Tom Harris, I’d like to have a little moan about my train journey yesterday. I spent the Bank Holiday weekend up in the Lake District and seeing as it takes an absolute age to get down the West Coast line on a Sunday or a Bank Holiday, we decided to go for a walk in the Dales and then have me catch the train from Northallerton to London. The 18:36 from there was meant to get me into London at 21.10. When I arrived at the station, though, I was told that the train on which I was

Monday

James Forsyth James Forsyth

Tackling knife crime

Stephen has a good piece in today’s Times arguing that the way to deal with the current wave of knife crime is not to pass yet more laws but to enforce fully the ones that are already on the books. As Stephen notes, In 2006, only nine of the 6,314 people convicted of carrying a knife were handed down a maximum sentence. Most were given a caution.  One of the great failings of this government has been the belief that legislation can cut crime. In reality, the many criminal justice bills passed are only the worth the paper they’re written on if they are properly enforced.

Sunday

Saturday

The Spectator

Letters | 24 May 2008

Thatcher’s champion Sir: The Spectator may have been Margaret Thatcher’s first press champion as Fraser Nelson notes (‘Labour’s best hope’, 17 May), but its support was not unwavering. At the end of 1974 it was unduly impressed by the efforts of Heath’s allies to brand her a food-hoarder when she sensibly encouraged pensioners to stock up with tinned food at a time of rising inflation. On 7 December 1974 it opined: ‘for the milk-snatcher to become the food-hoarder shows precisely the same political ineptitude as Sir Keith Joseph and it is likely to have the same political consequence’. Her defiance of the Tory critics swiftly silenced the editor’s doubts. ‘I

Alan Judd

On the buses | 24 May 2008

Boris would have approved. He might have been envious. He might even have remembered the lunch he owes me. But I’d have let him off that just to have seen his face when he saw me at the wheel of a Routemaster bus. Since it is a vintage vehicle, an ordinary car licence suffices provided there are no more than eight passengers and no charge is made, and the drive is easier and yet more enjoyable than you’d think. With luck and the new mayor, we might see them on London’s streets again: Autocar has already reviewed an improved design that more than meets modern requirements. Built in London for

Ursula Buchan

Unwelcome news

In 1811, Jane Austen wrote to her sister, Cassandra, in response, no doubt, to an anxious enquiry: ‘I will not say that your mulberry trees are dead, but I am afraid they are not alive.’ I know something of how the Blessed Jane felt, for my advice about the health and welfare of mulberry trees is also sometimes sought at this time of year. The reason is simple. The black mulberry (Morus nigra) is one of the last trees to come into leaf in spring. While horse chestnut, sycamore and hazel have fully expanded their leaves, the mulberry is still in tight, discouraging bud. This year, in late April, I

Melissa Kite

Civic torment

‘Do you mind if I just put a bag of garden waste next to yours if you’re having it collected?’ said the friendly lady who lives next door. I was piling up my regulation green canvas bags for ‘heavy garden waste’ and white bags for ‘light garden waste to be composted’ when she popped the question as she opened the door to her house. A harmless enough request in days gone by. But in the current climate? Reader, I panicked. I froze to the spot. I had already informed Lambeth council of the amount of waste, almost to the nearest ounce, to be collected. I had counted the bags three

Jeremy Clarke

Walking disaster

Jeremy Clarke on his Low Life I was looking at trail running shoes in a specialist running shoe shop, intending to buy. The young woman who sprang forward to assist was fit, lean and agile. She exuded tiptop mental and physical health. Helena she was called. She was Czech. I, on the other hand, was crapulous and reeked strongly — even to myself — of the odours of the tavern. ‘How far do you think you will be going?’ she said. ‘Between 50 and 100 miles,’ I said. ‘Running?’ she said, impressed. ‘Walking,’ I said. ‘Along long-distance footpaths in the south of England with a rucksack.’ She looked disappointed. Obviously

Taki

The write stuff | 24 May 2008

Is the opening sentence of a book, especially a novel, the most consequential, or is it just dressing for the feast to come? I’d say the former judging from A Tale of Two Cities, Moby-Dick, Pride and Prejudice, and my favourite, The Death of Manolete, by Barnaby Conrad. ‘In August, 1947, in Linares, Spain, a multimillionaire and a bull killed each other and plunged a nation into mourning.’ But here’s one that’s bound to be the greatest of them all, Tan Lines, to be published by St Martin’s Press on 8 July: ‘There are 8,000 nerve endings in the clitoris, and this son of a bitch couldn’t find any of

Peter Oborne

Diary – 24 May 2008

The day after my arrival in Harare I attended Evensong at St Mary Magdalene’s Anglican church. The congregation was in a state of shock. Almost every church in Harare had been raided by riot police that morning. In some cases the police blocked worshippers from entering as they arrived, beating up those who tried to object. In other cases the police only made their appearance once the service had already begun. At St Francis Waterfalls the police charged into the church and dragged people from the communion rail as they took the Eucharist, reportedly beating at least one woman senseless. Robert Mugabe accuses the churches of consorting with the opposition

Toby Young Toby Young

Status Anxiety | 24 May 2008

I never thought I’d claim I was quoted ‘out of context’ — until I went to Cannes ‘Memo to writers and others,’ wrote Kingsley Amis. ‘Never make a joke against yourself that some little bastard can turn into a piece of shit and send your way.’ I should have borne this in mind when I was in Cannes last week to promote How To Lose Friends & Alienate People, the forthcoming film of my book. I was at a press conference on the Croisette when a journalist asked how I felt about being played by Simon Pegg. For those of you who don’t know, Simon is a gifted comic actor

Dot Wordsworth

Mind Your Language | 24 May 2008

Dot Wordsworth gives it her best shot I hardly wish to interpose my body between Anthony Horowitz and Simon Hoggart, even though the former invoked me. He declared (Letters, 10 May) that he is puzzled by Mr Hoggart’s remark in his television column that ‘in 1945 nobody ever said, “I’ll give it my best shot”,’ as someone was made to in Foyle’s War. This is not just a matter of finding the two words best and shot next to each other. In Treasure Island, the answer to the question ‘Who’s the best shot?’ is Squire Trelawney. No, the shot we’re talking about is neither the discharge from a firearm nor the

Mary Killen

Dear Mary | 24 May 2008

Q. I treated four friends to a trip to the Far East. On the way back there was a cock-up at the airport with an overbooked plane and our party had to be put up for the night in a (magnificent) hotel. As a stickler for standards I wrote to the airline to complain and was quite satisfied to receive flight vouchers for £500 in compensation. I was amazed when one of my guests boasted to me later that he had followed my lead and that he too had received £500 in flight vouchers. Do you agree, Mary, that it was incumbent on my guest to pass these vouchers on

Roger Alton Roger Alton

Spectator Sport | 24 May 2008

Tim Henman famously spent a lot of his time trying to convince us he wasn’t as nice as all that. So when Henman called Andy Murray a ‘miserable git’ at a charity do the other day, we ought to listen. Though, bless him, when Murray was asked about this he did say, ‘Well I suppose I am a miserable git really.’ But it’s the heart of the clay court season next week, with the start of the French Open, and isn’t it about time this prodigiously talented young Scot started to deliver? Sure he has beaten Roger Federer twice, but in tennis terms the Swiss World No. 1 is almost

Lucy Vickery

Compensation culture

In Competition No. 2545 you were invited to submit a letter written by a well-known literary character to an insurance company making a personal accident claim. My favourite ludicrous compensation claim — which generated the classic Sun headline ‘Safeway leaflet crippled my dog’ — was made against the unfortunate supermarket chain by a couple after their dachshund injured itself leaping up to grab a store leaflet that had been posted through the letter-box. The standard was cracking —  commendations to Noel Petty, John O’Byrne, Mae Scanlon and Mrs E. Emerk. W.J. Webster’s entry strayed from the brief but was too enjoyable to be left out. The winners get £25 apiece,

Michael Bloomberg

The new ‘special relationship’: between London and New York

‘This is the Conservative party’s candidate for mayor of London?’ That was the first thought that ran through my head when I met Boris Johnson at the party’s annual conference last year in Blackpool, which I attended at the invitation of David Cameron. Boris certainly didn’t look or sound like a politician — but then again, neither did I when I first campaigned to become mayor of New York in 2001. Back then, the pundits had a field-day lampooning my campaign. They said I was inexperienced, which was true. They said I was a walking verbal gaffe, which was no less true. And they said I had no chance of

Aidan Hartley

My brilliant career

In the summer of 1986 I got a job as a busboy in Burger King on the Champs-Elysées. I was given a funny pair of trousers, which I was ordered to wear as part of the uniform. I refused, and so later the very same day the only employment with steady prospects I’ve ever had in my life was terminated. I took to busking on the Métro with my friend Lloyd. Even after that summer ended, I stuck to busking — and to be honest I have been doing it ever since. OK, so Van Morrison tunes got dropped in favour of freelance journalism. But it’s all the same thing.

Ross Clark Ross Clark

Half a house is hardly worth having

I’m going to start with a declaration of interest. I own a four-bedroom house in Cambridgeshire, in which I have been living for the past nine years. I own no other property, either in Britain or abroad. I feel obliged to say this because increasingly when I read headlines such as ‘Doom and gloom as house prices fall further’, I wonder: has the author got a portfolio of bedsits in Stoke-on-Trent or has he just bought a house in Tooting and is desperately trying to flog his flat in Streatham? The received wisdom that falling house prices are a bad thing is certainly not shared by the public at large.

Theodore Dalrymple

Global Warning | 24 May 2008

Theodore Dalrymple delivers a Global Warning It is when you see the English enjoying themselves that you realise the futility of life. Perhaps I should say trying to enjoy themselves: for in the attempt, rarely successful, they turn either glum or public nuisance. The occasion of these melancholy reflections was a rainy weekend in Torquay, whither I had gone to attend a medical conference. It took place in the English equivalent of a grand hotel: a mixture of pomposity and grubbiness, whose management had managed to find the last waitresses in Eastern Europe trained in the Soviet school of hostelry. During a break in the proceedings, I took a ride