House of Ill Repute
It should have been possible to foresee that the report would produce one of two main findings: that everything was hunky-dory, in which case screams of "Whitewash!" would have erupted from Labour, the Lib-Dems et al; or that constituents were entitled to know what MPs were up to while supposedly representing their interests, in which case Tories would howl "Unfair!". Nolan decided upon the latter and, although he acknowledged that instances of corruption were surprisingly few, recommended that full disclosure of outside 'earners' was the surest way to avoid the dread 'conflict of interests'.
To the dismay of many Conservatives, and the undisguised glee of the Opposition, Dear John dithered and blethered and, in his usual conciliatory manner, attempted to straddle the fence without snagging his particulars. Despite his circus background, however, John is not too skilful a juggler...and lost his balls.
It might have been different had not the grotesque figure of Sir Edward 'Blobby' Heath chosen to rail loudly and monotonously against the scandalous suggestion that politicians sometimes behave improperly! Ted, who is to reasoned debate what Ebola is to large parts of Zaire, was particularly offended that an 'outsider' should be appointed as regulator. His thinking is clear: an outsider is unlikely to accept the myriad little perks and titbits that cushion the arduous and onerous parliamentary lifestyle. It would perhaps be pertinent at this point to observe that Sir Edward has one of the worst attendance records at the Commons, a fact perhaps not unconnected to the seven outside 'consultancies' that occupy his time.
Once the obese Heath had spewed forth his obnoxious opinions, anyone wavering on the issue would naturally have taken up a contrary stance, as agreeing with the 'Grocer' is akin to announcing 'I am a loony'. Thus, amid yet more unnecessary, acrimonious scenes, Dear John lost the vote and Ted turned an unfetching shade of purple.
What should really be exercising the minds of those wishing to restore the public's faith in government is the utterly repugnant case of the 'Ordtech Four'. After the Matrix-Churchill affair, in which it emerged that ministers were quite prepared to let businessmen be imprisoned for helping their country's interests rather than admit to acquiescing in the trading of arms, one would have thought it could not happen again. Alan Clarke's famous remark concerning economies with 'the actualite' opened a nasty can of worms, with the Government's sell-by date on its side.
That ministers should sign 'public interest immunity certificates' (PIICs) to deny defendants access to evidence that could acquit them is a disgrace of far greater proportions than an MP being slipped a grand to promote the interests of a biscuit company. Mr. Paul Grecian, an Ordtech director, risked life and limb to unearth information for the security services on Iraqi weapons procurement. When, unbelievably, he was brought to trial for illegal export of defence equipment, access to crucial papers was denied and he was warned to plead guilty for his own safety!
If ever there was an exhibition of 'sleaze', it is this. To 'reward' patriotism, however misguided, with wrongful prosecution and concealment of vtial evidence is the act of a Third World dictatorship, not a civilised democracy! Those who signed PIICs knowing that they might send innocent men to jail should resign as a matter of honour (if they can understand the word). The Scott report, which has been smothered by panic-stricken civil servants, should be published forthwith.
Only then will we know how rotten is the state of Britain!
Following up previous stories monitored in this column, it emerges that the world has become no safer, saner or wiser.
M. Chirac, of Killer Frog fame, has detonated two additional bombs in the Pacific. Britain still refuses to condemn the tests, which has embroiled us in unpleasantness with the rest of the Commonwealth. 'Greasy' Alain Juppe has resigned from office, been reinstated, reduced the number of ministers...and is still almost as unpopular as our own Dear John!
Hopes that the 'Irish Prat' might have disappeared quietly have faded with the news that the Commission for Racial Equality is considering new action on his behalf. Not withstanding endless counselling sessions and the provision of a separate room at college in which he may escape nasty comments, the CRE is not satisfied that he has been given sufficient 'encouragement' in returning to the workplace. More taxpayers' money will doubtless soon be on its way.
Meanwhile, arch-villain Cedric 'Porker' Brown, CEO of British Gas, is apparently determined to see how much opprobrium he can garner for his organisation. Making the other Fat Cats seem positively benevolent, Cedric's latest PR wheeze has been to withdraw support for a Christmas party for retired employees! The excuse cited, namely that funds should be diverted to redundancy payment programmes, scarcely helps. Perhaps Cedric could flog a couple of share options and fund the bash himself...? At the same time, British Gas has announced its abandonment of the Charter Mark scheme, presumably to prevent it being snatched away from it as a result of record complaints and decreasing service.
Finally, for anyone contemplating a visit to Cyprus (see Flights of Fancy), I am informed that Mr. Carlos is currently being chased by Manchester City F.C.!
This ugly, boorish individual is Prime Minister of Australia, a position that seems to convey to him the impression that people elsewhere give a stuff about what he has to say. Well, 'mate', we don't! The late Arthur Negus on the subject of antiques, or Phil Drabble on sheep dog trials, bear more relevance than your increasingly bizarre public whingeing.
Whether or not you tweaked "the Royal bra strap" as you claim, and despite your pathetic macho posturing in threatening to give John Major "a clip round the ear" (noone likes cruelty to defenceless animals), the indignity with which you strut the political arena demeans your countrymen. Were a 'croc' to take a fancy to you and take you to meet his relatives down under (the water), you would be missed about as much as a case of dysentery.
In the blunt Aussie-speak we hear so much about, grow up or shut up!
Nominations for æ***t of the WeekÆ to: WASP@londonmall.co.uk
In our search for the vanished stars of yesteryear, we pose this crucial question:
Whatever happened to Orville the Duck?
Last week's most plausible suggestion, relating to the disappearance of Sigue Sigue Sputnik: "...working for Help The Aged".
Suggestions to: WASP@londonmall.co.uk
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