'X' Marks The Spot!

For the benefit of anyone who found the odd non sequitur in last week's column, the explanation is simple: the ugly face of political correctness has found its way into the Mall and certain 'changes' were forced upon me!

Thus, in order to avoid the attentions of the Censor and his rubber (no tittering!), I must from now on restrict myself to handy home hints, the latest gardening news and unctuous paeans to Hillary Clinton and Clare Short. These anodyne topics, I feel sure, will not offend anyone, unless gardening is considered too right-wing and elitist ("what about the inner city-dwellers?") by pimply liberals-with-attitude.

Accordingly, this week's top tip is how to build a 'Newbury Tree-House', always useful when the bulldozers come dieselling in to demolish your local woodland for the sake of a new B-road. By simple observation of the following steps, you can not only live at almost no expense in a rural idyll, you can also irritate the hell out of council transport departments, local politicians and the police.

  • 1: Firstly, Assess Your Tree - is it sturdy; are there plenty of branches from which to sling your tatty ropes; and is there enough room to invite a few friends over for mushrooms?

  • 2: The next step is to Fit & Supply your tree: this is most usually accomplished with several quarts of Scrumpy, a flea-ridden mongrel and a few incense sticks. Unlike your town dwelling, you are unlikely to have heat and light supplied by Molotov cocktail or burning rubbish skip, so remember to stock-pile mouldy blankets and Mohair jumpers. Other obligatory items of kit are D.M.s, a guitar with four strings and a small, blackened pipe.

  • 3: Stick a piece of cardboard to the base of your tree, naming it 'Dun-Washin' or similar, so that the Social Services can deliver your Giro cheques as speedily as possible. Once cashed in a nearby Post Office, to the delight of the Post Office customers, you can blow as much as possible in the local pub until either closing time, the landlord tiring of you throwing darts at his cat or an unpleasant confrontation with village youths drives you back up into the branches.

  • 4: If you awake to find a large red 'X' painted toward the base of your tree, this means that it is about to be Chopped Down! At this juncture, it is acceptable to become hysterical, defecate on the security guards and chain your genitals to the trunk. If, by some oversight, you are still in your tree when it is chopped down, you will find generous legal aid is available to fund your claim for compensation against the council. Otherwise, simply move into an adjacent tree (or, at a push, a bush) and start again.

  • 5: When the bypass is eventually built, despite your most strenous efforts, you can claim a Moral Victory because you delayed the contractors (even though they were probably on excellent overtime) and really annoyed the plods! Furthermore, the fact that you have not had a bath for six weeks indicates what a serious environmentalist you are (as host to thousands of otherwise homeless lice); and a fleeting appearance on South-East News will give you a lot of 'street-cred' with your mates.

    Next Week: 'Bosnian Bivouacs'!



    Rocking The Boat...

    Those of us still aboard the 'slowest boat' in the convoy must now make a momentous decision: leap overboard or stay aboard the sinking ship.

    The extraordinary speech by German Chancellor Helmut Kohl in Belgium last week is the clearest indication yet that the grandiose and wildly optimistic timetable for the manufacture of the dreaded 'Euro' cannot be implemented. To stir up the French and Belgians, who dare not wipe their bottoms without permission from Bonn, Helmut uttered dire prophecies of a new European war if the benighted project does not proceed apace. This is despite the fact that, by some estimates, only Luxembourg, a country with a population of under 400,000, will be able to meet the strict convergence criteria stipulated in the Maastricht Treaty.

    The ridiculous Jacques Santer, whom John Major preferred as EU boss to the equally ridiculous Jean-Luc Dehaene, also sounded off about the sacrosanct nature of the timetable. If, he stated, the dates were not religiously observed, the opportunity would be lost forever. Why? If you aim to buy a stereo in March but, by the end of February, have not saved up enough money, you can put it off until April - the plan may have changed slightly, but at no point is the opportunity lost, only delayed.

    It is the perverse intransigence of leaders such as Kohl that so frustrates and infuriates the increasingly disillusioned Euro-voters, whose initial belief that the E.U. would become a powerful block of free-trading, independent nation states has been dashed. It becomes clearer by the day that the main, if only, beneficiary of E.M.U. is going to be Helmut and the bergers of Frankfurt. They will have control of Europe's economy and will determine interest rates to Germany's, rather than Europe's, benefit.

    But however determined Helmut may be to realise his federalist dream, it is going a bit too far to threaten World War III if you are thwarted. The militaristic might of Germany today may be a pale shadow of that of the late '30's, but do we really want to have to prove it? I think not.

    A s for Helmut, clap him in irons until we reach a neutral port!



    Bottom of the Page...

    ...is Virginia Bottomley, who has apparently based her decision to allow the nation's premier sporting events to be sold to the highest bidder almost entirely on information supplied by Sky TV.

    Her statement that money from Sky had funded the country's football clubs in their construction of all-seater stadia ignored the contribution of ú130 million from The Footbal Trust. Moreover, even if the claim were true, does money alone justify removing from most of the country the enjoyment of viewing the Cup Final or the Boat Race?

    In a welcome reverse for Murdoch's ambition, coverage of the Olympic Games was recently secured for Europe's non-satellite channels. This is good news for any budding Linford Christie or Daley Thompson, who will be able to watch and, hopefully, emulate the sporting achievements of their heroes. If, however, the majority of children are prevented from watching the very best of British sport, they will not be so enthused.

    Sometimes, Ginny, the Sky is not the limit!


    Write to WASP at WASP@londonmall.co.uk
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