Archive for July, 2010

DID THOSE WHO FED BRITAIN’S FATTEST WOMAN TO DEATH COMMIT MURDER?

When the law is still unclear over the illegality of a spouse assisting a terminally ill partner to end his or her life, the circumstances of the death of Sharon Mevsimier suggest some uncomfortable possibilities.
    Mrs Mevsimier, who is under 5’ and weighs 45 stone, was in hospital undergoing intensive (and expensive) medical care as a result of her self-inflicted obesity. She had claimed shortly before she died that she had “been left to die. If I was anorexic I would get proper help but no one has sympathy for obese people.”
    She has, it is reported in the Daily Mail, been receiving 24 hour care since 2005, including three months at the Priory Clinic at £5k per month, paid for by the NHS.
    She and her family were warned that as she was on a strictly controlled diet, they should not give her any extra food, or she would risk death.
    Nevertheless, this instruction was ignored and the family smuggled in fish and chips and buckets of fried chicken for her to eat. As a direct result, Mrs Mevsimier died. The family must have known that their actions would lead to her death, that they were, in effect, poisoning her.
    On the face of it, the DPP has a strong case for bringing a prosecution for manslaughter, if not murder.

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RORY STEWART’S GAFFE WAS TALKING TO A HACK FROM THE SUN

 In an absurd Comedy of PC Errors, new Cumbrian Tory MP Rory Stewart has had to apologise publicly for making accurate and utterly harmless comments about some of his constituents. In an interview published in the Scottish Sun and written by their “celebrity” interviewer, Matt Bendoris, it was clear that, despite their owner’s professed allegiance to David Cameron’s Conservative Party, the paper’s agenda was to make Stewart look elitist and out of touch, jeering at what they perceived to be his “toff” characteristics, in order, one imagines to curry favour with their intolerant and bigoted Scottish readers.
    Stewart is described, in the windy outdoors of the Lake District, as having “unruly black hair Worzel Gummidge would have been proud of.” [“Worzel Gummidge” is a standard Sun cliché for ‘slightly untidy’, and for years was invariably applied by the paper to the late Labour leader, Michael Foot.]
    His “tailor-made suit” (did Bendoris ask him or did he sneak a look at the label)  had “a light dusting of  dandruff,” not visible in either of the onsite photos published with the article.
    Stewart also “fiddles with his cuff-links a lot, like Prince Charles..” [another republican Sun bête noir] “..and speaks a little like him too.” [This is a standard Sun jibe at what they perceive to be an elitist toff accent. How, you may ask, would they describe the accent of News International CEO, Rebekah Brooks’ husband, Charlie, an old-Etonian, lapsed race-horse trainer.]
    Bendoris himself goes on to describe the residents of Langwathby, the village they are visiting, as “slightly potty” – a statement for which the hack has not felt it necessary to apologise.
    Stewart’s good manners in looking interested in the scare-crow competition he was inspecting is dismissed as a “toff trait”.
    Bendoris wonders why someone who made it into GQ Magazine’s Top 50 Men of 2010 [whatever that accolade is worth] should want to come to the back of beyond [just off the M6 between Preston and Carlisle].
    Then he quotes Stewart: “Some areas around here are pretty primitive, people holding up their trousers with bits of TWINE (sic) and that sort of thing.”
    And it’s for this that Stewart has been forced to apologise and describe his own remarks as “extremely foolish”.
    The local paper, the Carlisle News & Star, said he had been branded as arrogant and crass.
    The Guardian suggested that Stewart had called his constituents “yokels” which he hadn’t.
    It’s hard to see who can have been insulted by what Stewart had said (admittedly with a certain degree of naivety, given that he was talking to a man from a Murdoch rag). No one I know who wears binder twine would give a damn. In order to convey the flavour of the Welsh Marches where I live, I have often described some of the inhabitants in the more remote corners as using binder twine for a belt, because they do – it’s not a criticism; it’s not a condemnation; it’s not insulting; it’s just what they do (and why the hell shouldn’t they – anymore than young men in inner cities choosing not to wear belts so that their jeans can hang halfway down their arses?)

Rory Stewart is undoubtedly a bit of an eccentric smarty-pants – and thank God for that in a time when this is too rare. I suspect he is also more knowledgeable, more dedicated, braver, more resourceful and immeasurably more entertaining than the mediocre, cliché-scribbling pip-squeak who interviewed him. But, of course, it gave the hack a chance to have a dig at the British upper-middle classes that Rupert Murdoch has despised since he was shunned by a few of them when he was at Oxford back in  the ‘50s. A vain old man scorned can be dangerously single-minded.

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ANOTHER PAY-OUT AND MORE SHAME FOR RUPERT.

 The News of the World have been ordered to pay out yet again for their sleazy journalism.
    As I predicted on this blog back in January, the High Court in London has today awarded Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie a settlement (undisclosed but likely to be huge) for the paper’s illegal intrusion of their privacy. The Screws had bought some dodgy information, and (as is their practice) drawn the conclusion that suited their permanently warped sense of news. The wrong conclusion, naturally.
   Ol’ Rupert Rumplechops must be getting mightily pissed off with his former love, The Harridan of Wapping, especially as the finishing touches are put to a fresh major revelation about the mess his people made there three years ago when they clumsily tried to cover up their involvement in a string of phone-hacking crimes.
    And the boss in London then, Les Hinton, is now boss of Dow Jones/Wall Street Journal. That will be more than a bit embarrassing.

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Andy eases Cameron into the Wall Street Jorunal

It’s a a great pity that we must be reminded of our Prime  Minister’s connection with Rupert Rumplechops through his choice of the Wall Street Journal (The Jewel in the coronet of Rupert’s vanity) in which to write his well-judegd words about the realities of the “Special Relationship”. Of course, DC’s in-house spinner, Andy Coulson is a former partner in crime with WSJ CEO, Les Hinton. How long will he remain to taint the air in Downing Street? The countdown has started.

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Can Andy Keep his Breakfast Down?

 Andy Coulson’s been out of the news since his new salary was as No 10’s head spinner was revealed a month ago.
Not for long.
Coulson’s spectacular stonewalling, sidestepping and truth economy that we witnessed last year in front of the Commons Culture Committee are about to turn round and bite him (and his trusting boss) in the arse.
A lot of hard-working journalists on both sides of the Atlantic have been working on this important revelation of the truth since Nick Davies of the Guardian, a year ago today, revealed that The News of the World had paid off Gordon Taylor for hacking his phone.
However adept the Screws people have become at covering their tracks and misleading their interrogators, when up against investigative reporters of quality, they are bound sooner or later to stub their toes.
So far, the only head among the foul-smelling cabal that has run the country’s most shameful Sunday paper to have been sacrificed is that of former managing editor Stuart Kuttner – ignominiously sacked after twenty years of journalistic malpractice.

Who will follow?
Among those who are having difficulty keeping their breaklfast down since an unexpected visitor at Wapping from New York last month are Tom Crone, Les Hinton and, most significant of all, Andy Coulson.

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The Prince & What the People Want

A High Court Judge was reported by the Guardian to have described Prince Charles’ intervention in the redevelopment of the Chelsea Barracks site as “unexpected and unwelcome”.
    I was surprised; Mr Justice Vos is a judge who is careful about expressing his own views. Then I find that the Guardian got it wrong – the judge said that the developers “regarded this intervention, no doubt, as unexpected and unwelcome.”
    I don’t doubt it was unwelcome; a lot of money down the line, they didn’t want their plans turned over now; but I frankly doubt that it was unexpected.
    Prince Charles has frequently and famously expressed his views on architecture; it was unlikely that he would overlook the treatment of a key site in central London, adjacent to the C18th classicism of Chelsea’s Royal Hospital, more especially when he had been approached by a large group of the public who feared the imposition of an unsympathetic, uncompromisingly modernistic structure, on a huge scale.
    If the prince has a function, passing on the views of many thousands with less scope for influence seems an entirely supportable one, especially in the face of the solipsistic arrogance of the architect involved. Lord Rogers had often displayed his intolerance of those who don’t share his vision of a landscape that belongs to and effects us all.
    His loudest objection to Prince Charles’ expressed concerns is that it is undemocratic, but there is distressingly little democracy behind deciding what buildings will fill our landscape.
   Take the beautiful town of Ludlow, where I live.
   There is a deep, immensely uplifting charm to a place that has retained 800 years of varied and developing building styles, which escapes very few visitors and is treasured by the more civilized inhabitants. However, when it was decided to put up a new library, the developers in conjunction with county council planners produced a scheme for a huge, industrial looking building, vastly out of scale with every edifice around it (apart from an already disastrous redbrick supermarket).
    There was, of course, a “consultation”, in which a host of individuals and organisations expressed their profound objections to the great modernistic shed that was proposed. These “consultations” are the “democratic process” behind which arrogant architects, bull-headed, big-spending council officials and profit-motivated developers hide.
    In a poll conducted by Building magazine, in which readers were asked to choose between Richard Rogers’ plan for Chelsea Barracks, or an alternative drawn up by traditional architect, Quinlan Terry and based on a classicism which has recurred and given great satisfaction and pleasure since the Greeks first created the concept, it isn’t at all surprising that Terry’s plan drew 60% of votes cast.

Disgracefully, there is no voting, no obligation on the part of planning hearings to take any notice of the views and wishes of the people who live in a town – who own their landscape. So I find myself now working in a library which is a cavernous, noisy space, which seems to function as a meet and chat venue, where large quantities of higher space are unused, and commercial activity occupies a proportion of the charmless lump of a bulding. The planners also bequeathed the town an ugly, useless little open space in front of the hulk, “perceived” by the County Council, “to attract people, thus benefitting nearby traders.” It is nearly always empty, occupied by discarded chewing gum and lager bottles.
    There are countless towns and cities throughout Britain that have been ruined in this way, and there have been many occasions when the public have yearned for someone of sufficient influence to raise a voice in support of their objections.
      The almost compete vandalization of the once lovely city of Gloucester, of which only the sublime cathedral and its immediate close remain, wouldn’t have happened if there had been a Prince Charles to suggest to the culprits that they should consider not just the wishes of their rate payers, but also the longer lasting qualities of traditional, vernacular and less aggressively modernistic building design.

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