Quite what prompted the incompetents – as they clearly are these days for all their fat salaries and big job titles and egos – in the No. 10 bunker to have the PM telling us to eat up our crusts one day and be photographed waving a glass of wine around the G8 dinner table as he tucked into the conger eel the next is beyond this simple communications guy’s understanding.
Dear Guido Fawkes
It has been drawn to my attention that on a posting dated the 24th April 2007, there are some extremely offensive comments relating to myself.
I have no problem with anyone taking part in your blog posting criticisms of me for my actions in parliament or my political views, but the remarks on this page are very personal and unpleasant as well as being untrue.
They also relate to other individuals, my family and my staff, which I find particularly offensive.
I would be grateful if you would remove them from the internet.
Thank you for your co-operation.
With best wishes.
Andrew Rosindell M.P.
Member of Parliament for Romford
Shadow Minister for Home Affairs
Looking after ROMFORD · Fighting for ENGLAND · putting BRITAIN first!
He is complaining about the entries in this caption competition from April last year.
Yes they are unpleasant and offensive, they are also very funny. Straight insults and/or satire are however generally not considered defamatory. Nobody is seriously suggesting you and the dog are lovers. Clearly satirical comments of this nature are not actionable.
I have nevertheless had a quick look and removed a couple of comments which, at a stretch, could relate to staff members. Don’t see any about your family.
You are a public figure, you should expect public scrutiny, including ridicule. If you will go round kissing dogs for publicity photos, people are entitled to laugh and make jokes. They will therefore remain published.
On a more serious matter, I note you voted against transparency for MP’s expenses. Since we no longer have the stocks for those the public hold in contempt, my blog will have to do.
Apparently Alastair Campbell is frantically texting round the great and the good to try and drum up numbers for tomorrow night’s Labour fundraiser at Wembley. Bit late now… One person has apparently been phoned 8 times asked to buy a c. £15,000 table. Still saying no.
In contrast, the room last night for George Osborne’s speech was full, not just with young thrusting Cameroon boys and girls, but with an extraordinaryly large number of civil servant high fliers, no doubt eager to know what the new masters will demand of them. In the words of Bob Dylan:
Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’.
UPDATE : Sam also notes the guest list for Osborne’s speech.
The polls tell us that voters don’t think he is the best man for the job. Tragic.
*Not to be confused with what chartists of the gold market call the “Brown Bottom“, when he told the gold market in advance that he was going to sell off Britain’s gold reserves. The traders immediately got short ahead of the sales, profited on the way down as gold plunged, filled their boots as they bought back their shorts and some more for the greatest gold market rally of the twentieth century. An act of imprudent financial stupidity that some describe as treasonous.
Guido has been pondering Harriet’s retort to Hague’s jibe about her wanting Gordon’s job - “It wouldn’t be possible because there aren’t enough airports in the country for all the men who would want to flee…”. James Forsyth over at the CoffeeHouse has it on the nail:
she actually froze and couldn’t find a way out of the hole she was digging herself into… Harman was rather desperately searching for some witty rejoinder and ended up blurting out the first thing that came into her head. I do find it incredible–considering all the press speculation in recent days – that Harman didn’t arrive with a pre-prepared line to use if the leadership came up.
… the defendants concocted and put into execution a four-stage plan to secure power over the people:
Step 1 The victims pay more tax
Step 2 They receive “benefits” to pay the tax
Step 3 They are grateful for the “benefits”
Step 4 They vote for the defendants
This is the central charge against the left universally, whether social democrat or socialist, humanist or Stalinist, they always end up taxing to give back benefits to the people they took the money from in the first place. An astonishing 22,400,000 people in this country claim benefits, 39% of households, the number has doubled under New Labour. If we lifted the threshold at which taxes were paid to say £12,000 (as advocated by Adam Smith Institute) millions would be able to get off the tax-bureaucracy-benefit merry-go-round. Gordon has built a client class of state bureacrats and those dependent on the state. The only reason Gordon deliberately pays child benefit to millionaires is because he thinks it will shore up support for the welfare state.
It is a shame that Saatchi is out of favour with the Cameroons, mainly because he sings from the old Thatcherite hymn sheet. Well, he did after all write some of the best hit tunes…
UPDATE :Fathers4Justice campaigners are back on the roof of her house again.
It’s Time to Speak for England | John Redwood
It Was Me Who Taped Howard Flight | John Woodcock
Indy Editor: We Will Stay Afloat | Press Gazette
English Don’t Want Scotland to Stay at Any Price | Dan Hodges
England Must Have Self-Government Too | Mark Wallace
Next Year’s Election Will Be the Dirtiest Ever | Speccie
Chicken Salmond Runs Away From Sun Cabbie | Sun
Scary No Messages Don’t Add Up | Sun
Feminist War on Children | Laura Perrins
An English Parliament is Inevitable Whatever Happens | Alex Wickham
Union All But Over Even if Scots Vote No | Janan Ganesh
Gyles Brandreth writes in his memoirs:
“Sunday, May 10, 1998
Early start: appearing on Breakfast With Frost, to be broadcast from 11 Downing Street. The Chancellor [Gordon Brown] is grouchily amiable, but so earnest — and still biting his fingernails to the quick.
After the show, he took us upstairs to his flat. He lives above No 10, while Blair and family are in the No 11 duplex, which is bigger and more like a proper house.
I was intrigued that, when he took us into his bedroom, the Chancellor rather ostentatiously opened the built-in wardrobes, as if he wanted us to see the women’s frocks that were hanging in there.
They looked quite large, but I don’t think they belong to Gordon. I assume they belong to his girlfriend [Sarah Macaulay, who he later married].
I presume he was keen for us to know that he has one — and that she’s not a ‘beard’. I don’t think he does anything without calculation.”