Trawling around the papers tonight looking for things that interested me, I came across very few stories that were worthy of much more than a few words...
I mean it’s not really that important that the Icelandic president has been to America and met Sarah Palin, for whom it appears he has nothing but admiration, but it did occur to me that the Icelanders must be pleased that the presidency is of the non-executive variety.
I also wondered at all the fuss being made over the death of Christopher Shale. No doubt a great and tragic loss to his family and friends, and a close political friend of the UK prime minister, but not a nationally known figure, so why the big news story? Of course, I guess, it’s all because his memo, fiercely critical of the Tories, had been leaked; Downing Street called him to let him know, and a little later he was dead, reportedly of a massive heart attack. No story, move along please and let the family grieve.
I was amused to hear that Basil Brush the defence blokey in London has been lecturing errant generals about what it is appropriate for them to say, and how dangerous it is to give the enemy hope by pointing out what most 10 year olds could guess; that there isn’t enough money to fund an on-going war in Libya. This will be the same Foxy fella that leaked a letter to the prime minister about cuts in MOD funding causing dire problems for the UK military, and who has given the Taliban and the Mad Mullahs of Afghanistan hope by announcing total withdrawal by 2015 (just in time for the general election?) Perhaps the long tailed one wakes up some morning and thinks... and then perhaps some mornings he just wakes up.
But then I found the story that really grabbed my attention. The tale of Happy Feet, an Emperor Penguin who got lost in Antarctica and ended washed up on Peka Peka beach in New Zealand, where despite it being winter, it was far too hot for the wee fellow. It seems he ate wet sand to keep himself cool... maybe he thought it was funny foreign snow... who knows.Of course the wet sand and bits of stick and stone made the bird so ill that he was going to die.
But there was a happy ending, because he was discovered, taken to a zoo, and a senior surgeon from a Wellington Hospital carried out an operation on him. And now he has started on the road to recovery.
One lucky bird, and a tale to warm your heart in this cold, dreary, wet, windy summer.
Who cares if some minor Tory drops dead in a porta-potty at Glastonbury, why is this even being reported in Scotland? I really don’t care about his Winnebago in the VIP section nor that he was a fine chap to share a glass of Champers with. I don’t even care that he blotted his copy book with the Conservative Party and then dropped dead of shame in a chemical toilet! Bring on the penguin stories.
ReplyDeleteHmmm Munguin. Harsh though it sounds, I guess you're right. I hope the British "celebrity" culture sin't going to mean that we get a blow by blow account of the death of everyone that David Cameron ever knew.
ReplyDeleteAs I said, this is doubtless tragic for his family and I wouldn't want to detract from that, but that's a personal thing. This man was not a nationally known figure. I doubt anything he did in life was reported nationally, so why his leaving of it is, is perplexing, and certainly of no interest, unless someone bumped him off because of what he'd written (and that seems unlikely).
One thing that came out of all this was that at Glastonbury they have a VIP area!!!
A rock festival with a VIP area for people who know David Cameron! Yuk!
Couldn't resist.
ReplyDeleteCouldn't stop watching it either CH... Brilliant!!!
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