Flies-open
‘Clive has always been a flies-open sort of chap.’
Uncategorized
Wednesday
Collection of fantasies
Unsafe cladding
We’d like to run up a £20 billion black hole
‘We’d like to run up a £20 billion black hole.’
I’m confused
‘I’m confused – is this a Tory doom and gloom or Labour doom and gloom?’
But guys, I didn’t mean being this unpopular
‘But guys, I didn’t mean being this unpopular.’
Truss at 10
I hate public displays of affection when I don’t have my phone ready
‘You know I hate public displays of affection when I don’t have my phone ready.’
The rich are lining up to leave
In praise of anachronisms
Do you know what an anachronism is? They’re very clear in cultural terms: Shakespeare’s clocks in Julius Caesar, for example. But in historical terms, it’s a different matter. When His Majesty King Charles III was crowned, the online scoffers were quick to mobilise themselves. One enthusiastic Jacobin tweeted that the enthroned, orbed and sceptred sovereign was ‘insane’, an ‘anachronism’. Out the scoffers troop, reliably, at every State Opening of Parliament. (And quite right too: mockery is a vital part of a successful polity). ‘How Ruritanian!’ they sneer (not quite grasping that the Ruritanians were copying us. And also, er, fictional.) The jeerers usually finish by wondering why we can’t be
In defence of true crime
I recently listened to a 13-part podcast called Who Killed Emma?. It’s a gripping piece of work – a BBC investigation into the murder of 27-year-old Emma Caldwell in April 2005. Emma was a heroin addict and a prostitute on the streets of Glasgow. She was strangled and left for dead in a remote wood. Is it so terrible to be interested in these killers and their deeds? I don’t think so I’d recommend the podcast to any fan of true crime. And I’d also expect the scorn of those who deplore this highly successful genre. People who are inclined to say things like: ‘How can you be so voyeuristic?
Why I adopted a retired guide dog
While ambling along a quiet beach with my husband near our home, our attention was caught by a water skier in the distance. As we stood watching him zip at high speed across the bay, we were interrupted by a gentle nuzzling at our legs. My husband and I were being greeted by a youngish black Labrador who then stood stock still, gazing up at us. Although we recognise many dogs in our area, we hadn’t seen this fine-looking companion before. Given his keenness to make our acquaintance, we said hello and patted him, trying to discern his message, before a woman arrived and apologised. No need, we said. The
Tuesday
My battle with Alexa
My first brush with Artificial Intelligence was the Furby – that hideous speaking Gonk with eyes that blinked. You could hear the cogs turning. It felt basic, even for the 2000s. My techie ex got it for me as a birthday present. Like babies, this infant technology responded to clapping. It was weird and dull. Having exhausted its repertoire, I discarded it beside the sofa. One night, weeks later, we were sitting together and heard the whirr of its eyes opening, and it just said, the once, clearly in its strange little voice, ‘Boring’. We laughed. That was as good as it got. Alexa is not sexy like my old
Nobel winners are strange. I should know, I’ve met three of them
To meet one winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature would be seen by most bookish nerds like me as a real privilege; to meet two as extraordinarily lucky; but to enjoy extended encounters with three is surely very heaven. Such, however, has been my fortunate fate. The Nobel Prize for Literature is the world’s most prestigious – and, as it comes with a hefty cash bonus, the second most lucrative – award for fine writing. Inaugurated at the dawn of the 20th century by the Swedish industrialist and inventor of dynamite, Alfred Nobel (to atone for a lifetime manufacturing munitions) the prize is one of five awarded annually every
I’m glad my wife had a medical emergency at sea
My wife had already been given morphine and they had just topped her up with ketamine. She was now so high she didn’t seem even to know where she was. And this was probably a good thing, given she was strapped to a stretcher on the rear deck of a ferry in the Bay of Biscay, 100 miles off the French coast, and about to be hoisted some 75 feet into the night sky to a helicopter that was struggling in an increasingly stiff wind. I asked her what the flight had been like. She said she had been so out of it she thought she was appearing in a
Friday
A tip for my favourite flat handicap of the season
My favourite flat handicap of the season is the Club Godolphin Cesarewitch at Newmarket on 12 October. I have a good betting record in the race but this year the ante-post market is complicated by the fact that the brilliant Irish trainer Willie Mullins has entered no less than ten horses in the race. As always, the Irish runners, particularly those from the Mullins yard, are likely to have a big say in the outcome of this marathon contest which is run over two miles and two furlongs, and which therefore attracts lots of dual-purpose horses with decent hurdling form. The main problem is that Mullins keeps his cards close
Thursday
Labour should work with schools, not tax them out of existence
Keir Starmer insists his plan to place VAT on independent school fees is not ideological. It’s a ‘difficult decision’, he says, but necessary to raise revenue which will be used to hire 6,500 teachers for state schools. He wants the independent sector to ‘thrive’. Few would deny that state schools need better funding, but it is important to question whether the policy will be successful at raising money and also to examine what a thriving independent sector looks like, how it can contribute to education more broadly – and how the VAT plan threatens all that. Labour has claimed for some time that the policy would raise £1.7 billion. This
The real threat to schools? Falling birth rates
Labour’s proposal to impose VAT on private school fees will, we are often warned, lead to state schools becoming overloaded as parents withdraw their children from the independent sector and try to find alternative arrangements. That may turn out to be true in some areas in the short term, but in the longer term there is a different problem facing the state and independent sectors alike: a falling population of school-age children. It isn’t excessive class sizes which threaten to be an issue so much as shrinking classes, leading to school closures and amalgamations with other institutions. London classrooms appear to be emptying – in 2022, 15.5 per cent of
Why state schools need old boys’ clubs too
Ask a certain type of class warrior about the old boys’ network and they’ll tell you of ruddy-faced men in club ties, offering each other’s offspring summer internships. Or perhaps they’ll talk of thrusting bankers, who as children shared showers and a chilly dormitory, plotting to hire old school friends over more deserving candidates. Wink wink, nudge nudge, chortle chortle. What websites like ToucanTech and Gravyty have developed is essentially social media in a school tie There is probably still a little bit of truth in that. But in the past few years, it’s become much easier for any school to run an alumni network. Many independent schools, and an
Religious schools will be hit hardest by Labour’s VAT tax raid
Imagine the government pledged to introduce a 20 per cent tax rise on ‘bankers’. Then imagine that, when the details were announced, the new tax made no distinction between HSBC executives and lowly bank tellers on £19,000 a year. Furthermore, imagine that the public debate failed to mention the people who were going to suffer most from the policy; that commentators argued over whether the tax rise was technically workable, while ministers self-righteously declared that they were sure the richest people in the country could cope with paying a little more. Far-fetched? Yes, but not a million miles from Labour’s proposed imposition of VAT and business rates on independent schools.
