Nick Clegg, variously described as Deputy Prime Minister and Chief Clown of the Politically Correct State Circus, has used his Lib-Dem party conference speech to mock opponents of same sex "marriage". He described them as "dinosaurs". It remains to be seen if he will retract the insult as he did last year when he called supporters of traditional marriage bigots.
On that occasion he blamed his officials, claiming he would "never use such language" (although, of course, he did) and that he respected those who disagreed with him. There was precious little respect in his speech to fellow PC clones at their annual jamboree. The Coalition for Marriage has advised members to complain to their MPs, saying they are "disappointed" that Clegg would stoop to intemperate language and name calling.
The Coalition says polls show millions of people do not support the redefinition of marriage and that they should not be written off in contemptuous terms. Members are advised to tell their MPs they are personally offended by Clegg's ill-chosen remarks and intolerant attitude. All of which is far too feeble and deferential a response in my opinion.
I believe respect and politeness are wasted on this individual. He needs to be made aware that he does not have a monopoly of offensive free speech. Nor does he have exclusive access to the natural world when choosing his metaphors. He should be told directly: if we are dinosaurs then you are a dung beetle.
Friday, September 20, 2013
A double celebration
Yesterday saw two significant ceremonies at Grace Towers. My wife, Jean, and I raised a glass to celebrate our 59th wedding anniversary. Then we raised another to mark the switching-on of our central heating after a record-breaking lay-off of 10 weeks, thanks to the July heatwave and the late arrival of autumn.
Putting one over on our shyster energy supplier (a member of the notorious Big Six privatised progeny of Thatcher, the arch shyster) has become one of life's few remaining pleasures. We fondly imagine the money-grubbing sharks' cries of pain as they wincingly scrutinise our paltry quarterly bill. "What's to become of us?" they wail, reaching for their breakfast Bollinger and caviar canapes.
In their specious publicity material the privateers claim they made a loss of £62 million on residential business last year. If you believe that you'll believe anything. But even if true, the figure is swallowed up by total profits of £1,667 million! That is unlikely to be enough, given their insatiable greed. Stand by for their latest disingenuous excuse for raising charges.
At Grace Towers we know the thrill of victory will soon give way to the chill of winter and the enemy's sustained counter attack. We're stocking up early with thermal underwear, hot water bottles, scarves, gloves and blankets, reminiscent of the war years. If Hitler couldn't beat us, there's no way Thatcher's storm troopers will!
Putting one over on our shyster energy supplier (a member of the notorious Big Six privatised progeny of Thatcher, the arch shyster) has become one of life's few remaining pleasures. We fondly imagine the money-grubbing sharks' cries of pain as they wincingly scrutinise our paltry quarterly bill. "What's to become of us?" they wail, reaching for their breakfast Bollinger and caviar canapes.
In their specious publicity material the privateers claim they made a loss of £62 million on residential business last year. If you believe that you'll believe anything. But even if true, the figure is swallowed up by total profits of £1,667 million! That is unlikely to be enough, given their insatiable greed. Stand by for their latest disingenuous excuse for raising charges.
At Grace Towers we know the thrill of victory will soon give way to the chill of winter and the enemy's sustained counter attack. We're stocking up early with thermal underwear, hot water bottles, scarves, gloves and blankets, reminiscent of the war years. If Hitler couldn't beat us, there's no way Thatcher's storm troopers will!
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