In the early days of Liberal England I wrote about E S Turner and his book Roads to Ruin. Sadly, Turner has died (at the age of 96) and his obituary was in this morning's Guardian.
I have a large format paperback from the 1960s which reprints many pages from the early issues of Private Eye. One of them makes fun of Punch for being staid and mentions Turner by name. It is no mean feat to be writing 40 years after you have been dismissed as a boring old fart.
As a tribute, here is a recent article of his from the London Review of Books.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
The Guardian's over-by-over pages
Yesterday's test match may have petered out into a draw, but it did have one highlight for me. An e-mail of mine was quoted by the Guardian's over-by-over pages - the blogosphere's answer to Test Match Special.
Go to the morning session and then the 9th over of Pakistan's second innings and you will find the following:
Go to the morning session and then the 9th over of Pakistan's second innings and you will find the following:
Jonathan Calder remembers that John Arlott once described Masood's run up as looking like "'Groucho Marx chasing a pretty waitress'".Asif Masood was a Pakistani opening bowler in the 1970s. And the great John Arlott fought Epping for the Liberals in 1955 and 1959.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Where did "train station" come from?
Why about 10 years ago did everyone in Britain stop saying "railway station" and start saying "train station"?
The following answers will not be accepted:
Later. Google Ngram tends to support my belief that the dominance of "train station" is a recent phenomenon.
The following answers will not be accepted:
- It is American. No it isn't: they say "railroad station" over there.
- A bus station is where you catch a bus, so a train station is where you catch a train. This may be logical (though when did idiom have anything to do with logic?), but it was equally logical 20 or 40 years ago when we certainly did not say "train station". So this does not explain the change.
- We have always said "train station". No we haven't: find me an example by a good writer from 20 years ago.
Later. Google Ngram tends to support my belief that the dominance of "train station" is a recent phenomenon.
How the Tories ruined our railways
Travelling home from work with an old friend who knows about such things, I learnt that the Department for Transport is planning to halve Market Harborough's off-peak rail services. As a result is that I spent some time handing out leaflets at Harborough station when we got there.
Note that the decision has not been made by Midland Mainline, who run the trains, but the DfT. It has been said that the railways our now more closely managed by government than they were during the Second World War.
This is the ironic result of the Tories' privatisation of British Rail and - in particular - their insistence on separating the operators of the trains from the people who own the rails. We Lib Dems are used to demanding more public spending, but the problem with the privatised system is that it swallows money (far more than British Rail ever needed) at an alarming rate. It is no wonder that the Treasury has tried to get some control over this, but in the process it has stripped any prospect of entrepreneurial flair from the train operators out of the system.
So this is why a booming town like Market Harborough - now firmly in the London commuter belt - is threatened with having its rail services cut. This decision is a nonsense, but even if our campaign to have the current level of service included in the new franchise documents succeeds, many people elsewhere will suffer.
Today the Tory transport spokesman Chris Grayling said:
Note that the decision has not been made by Midland Mainline, who run the trains, but the DfT. It has been said that the railways our now more closely managed by government than they were during the Second World War.
This is the ironic result of the Tories' privatisation of British Rail and - in particular - their insistence on separating the operators of the trains from the people who own the rails. We Lib Dems are used to demanding more public spending, but the problem with the privatised system is that it swallows money (far more than British Rail ever needed) at an alarming rate. It is no wonder that the Treasury has tried to get some control over this, but in the process it has stripped any prospect of entrepreneurial flair from the train operators out of the system.
So this is why a booming town like Market Harborough - now firmly in the London commuter belt - is threatened with having its rail services cut. This decision is a nonsense, but even if our campaign to have the current level of service included in the new franchise documents succeeds, many people elsewhere will suffer.
Today the Tory transport spokesman Chris Grayling said:
"Hindsight" my arse. Though few realised quite how bad things would be, there were plenty of people telling John Major's government that its privatisation would be a disaster at the time."We think, with hindsight, that the complete separation of track and train into separate businesses at the time of privatisation was not right for our railways.
"We think that the separation has helped push up the cost of running the railways - and hence fares - and is now slowing decisions about capacity improvements.
"Too many people and organisations are now involved in getting things done - so nothing happens. As a result, the industry lacks clarity about who is in charge and accountable for decisions."
Loud is the summer's busy song
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Gumley's place in history
The other day I said that Leonard Cheshire's opened his first home at Gumley Hall near Market Harborough. Now someone has left a comment on that post claiming that this was wrong and that it was at Le Court (which was the Cheshire family home). I shall investigate.
Meanwhile, let me draw attention to the writings of Andrew Burridge who believes that Gumley was the site of King Arthur's Camelot - or at least that Arthur and Offa have become confused in the historical record and that it was the site of Offa's palace.
Even if you do not buy this theory you can enjoy his photographs of Gumley. It is a beautiful spot.
Meanwhile, let me draw attention to the writings of Andrew Burridge who believes that Gumley was the site of King Arthur's Camelot - or at least that Arthur and Offa have become confused in the historical record and that it was the site of Offa's palace.
Even if you do not buy this theory you can enjoy his photographs of Gumley. It is a beautiful spot.
Thomas Tapling's only first class match
On Test Match Special this morning a website called Cricket Archive was mentioned.
Using it I have been able to find the scorecard for Thomas Tapling's only first-class match: Cambridge University vs MCC at Fenners, 31 May, 1-2 June 1886.
As he scored only 5 and 0 in his two innings and did not bowl, you can see why he is better remembered as a stamp collector.
Thus Tapling's life disproves the common belief that philately gets you nowhere.
Using it I have been able to find the scorecard for Thomas Tapling's only first-class match: Cambridge University vs MCC at Fenners, 31 May, 1-2 June 1886.
As he scored only 5 and 0 in his two innings and did not bowl, you can see why he is better remembered as a stamp collector.
Thus Tapling's life disproves the common belief that philately gets you nowhere.
The Sunday papers
Saturday, July 15, 2006
The Bonkers Code
The July issue of Liberator is now with subscribers, so it is time to post Lord Bonkers' latest diary. You can find an archive of them on his own website.
Monday
To London for the launch of my new book The Bonkers Code. I had the idea for it when I was told that an American chap was making a fortune out of the tale of a sinister conspiracy. I took a particular interest in this as I understood my interlocutor to be saying that the conspiracy was conducted by the SDP – I posted sentries and called out the militia without delay. A little fine-tuning of my ear trumpet revealed, to my understandable relief, that the sinister organisation at the heart of the book was not the SDP but Opus Dei, but even so it set me thinking. What if, after Joseph of Arimathea had brought Liberalism to England, he had conducted a marriage with, say, an ancestor of Nancy Seear? And what if that marriage had produced offspring whose heirs are amongst us even today? I retired to the Library at once to dictate the whole thing to my Literary Secretary.
Tuesday
In recent days there has been a great deal of ill-informed comment about our Deputy Prime Minister’s penchant for the game of croquet; he has suffered obloquy and had contumely poured over him – and dried contumely is a devil to brush off one’s jacket. The charge seems to be that by indulging in this pastime Prescott is betraying his proletarian roots. What rot! Have these people never been to Kingston upon Hull? If they did so they would see games of croquet taking place on every street corner, allotment and piece of waste ground. After a hard day’s trawling, there is nothing the doughty citizen of that historic city enjoys more than tying his whippet to a hoop and wielding the mallet in his shirtsleeves. Granted the game is a little rougher than that one encounters in the Home Counties – and features a more prominent role for dried fish – but to dismiss it as the preserve of the aristocracy betrays the most dreadful ignorance.
Wednesday
I have been reading more about these Opus Dei people. Did you know that Ruth Kelly, the woman with the deep voice and strange hairstyle who was briefly in charge of the nation’s schools (presumably on the grounds that she attended both Millfield and Westminster herself), is one of them? Apparently they wear spiked bracelets around their thighs – it can’t have made question time in the House any easier for her. Just imagine it: You are trying to find the figures for the number of children taking Hard Sums in the Soke of Peterborough in your folder when you suddenly feel the most ghastly pain. No wonder she struggled sometimes. Still, Mr Gladstone would scourge himself at the drop of a hat, and no one thought any the less of him for it.
Thursday
At the village shop I encounter my old friend Mark Oaten – his days as Rising Star the Indian brave now far behind him, I fear. “Another gross of Kit-Kat, Mr Patel,” he demands, and I am not surprised to see that he has a bit of a tummy on him. It transpires that he is trying to obtain a Golden Ticket that will win him ingress to something called “The Big Brother House” and numerous appearances on the electric television as a result. He assures me that this is the key to his rehabilitation, but I have my doubts. Mind you, I did see our own Julia Goldsworthy take part in some form of sports day, and enjoyed it thoroughly.
Friday
The morning brings news that the first printing of The Bonkers Code has already sold out: I allow myself a second helping of kedgeree. When I stroll down to the village, however, I find the place in turmoil. So vast are the crowds come to view the ceiling painting of the Circumcision of the National Liberals (to which I allude in the book) that PC Heath has had to be called for to steward them. When I return home I receive an angry telephone call from the clubhouse at Rosslyn Park where equally large numbers are demanding a site of their painting of “The First Lady Bonkers Going Over From A Five-Yard Scrum”. Then I hear cries from the garden and hurry out to find Meadowcroft, a broom in one hand and an orchard doughty in the other, driving away some people who are trying to dig up my lawn to look for the first edition of Mill’s On Liberty, the discovery of which marks the denouement of my bestseller. “They liter’ry types be nothing but trouble,” my gardener opines. I join in with a rolled-up copy of the High Leicestershire Radical and we soon command the field.
Saturday
Donning the velvet smoking jacket and wielding the cigarette holder – you know what we writers are – I go through the morning’s post: an invitation to judge the next Booker prize; another to open the annual Hull vs Grimsby croquet match; a letter asking me how to spell ‘Mississippi’; a parcel of books to review for The Times Literary Supplement. I think the literary life will suit me down to the ground.
Sunday
You may recall that poor Menzies Campbell was bullied into promising to sell his Jag during the leadership contest – he tells me that Clegg and Teather were the ringleaders. I suggested that he keep it in one of my outbuildings here at the Hall until the fuss has blown over, and he gratefully accepted the offer. This evening I decide to take her for a spin, as we don’t want her getting out of condition. As I bowl along the lanes of Rutland I ponder how to spend my windfall from the success of The Bonkers Code (I have been fielding calls from Hollywood moguls all day). The Reverend Hughes is always launching appeals to repair the roof of St Asquith’s; the Home for Retired Canvassers at Herne Bay would appreciate a cheque, no doubt; I might treat myself to another race horse – it is simply years since I won the Derby; perhaps some jube-jubes for the Well-Behaved Orphans?
At this point in my revelry there is a frightful bang and I find that I have driven the Jag into someone’s garden fence. I beat a hasty retreat, only to wake in the small hours alarmed lest the registration number has been snapped by one of these new cameras the police have everywhere. (Rather unsporting, don’t you think?) Remembering, however, that the Jag is still registered in Ming’s name, I turn over and soon go back to sleep.
Monday
To London for the launch of my new book The Bonkers Code. I had the idea for it when I was told that an American chap was making a fortune out of the tale of a sinister conspiracy. I took a particular interest in this as I understood my interlocutor to be saying that the conspiracy was conducted by the SDP – I posted sentries and called out the militia without delay. A little fine-tuning of my ear trumpet revealed, to my understandable relief, that the sinister organisation at the heart of the book was not the SDP but Opus Dei, but even so it set me thinking. What if, after Joseph of Arimathea had brought Liberalism to England, he had conducted a marriage with, say, an ancestor of Nancy Seear? And what if that marriage had produced offspring whose heirs are amongst us even today? I retired to the Library at once to dictate the whole thing to my Literary Secretary.
Tuesday
In recent days there has been a great deal of ill-informed comment about our Deputy Prime Minister’s penchant for the game of croquet; he has suffered obloquy and had contumely poured over him – and dried contumely is a devil to brush off one’s jacket. The charge seems to be that by indulging in this pastime Prescott is betraying his proletarian roots. What rot! Have these people never been to Kingston upon Hull? If they did so they would see games of croquet taking place on every street corner, allotment and piece of waste ground. After a hard day’s trawling, there is nothing the doughty citizen of that historic city enjoys more than tying his whippet to a hoop and wielding the mallet in his shirtsleeves. Granted the game is a little rougher than that one encounters in the Home Counties – and features a more prominent role for dried fish – but to dismiss it as the preserve of the aristocracy betrays the most dreadful ignorance.
Wednesday
I have been reading more about these Opus Dei people. Did you know that Ruth Kelly, the woman with the deep voice and strange hairstyle who was briefly in charge of the nation’s schools (presumably on the grounds that she attended both Millfield and Westminster herself), is one of them? Apparently they wear spiked bracelets around their thighs – it can’t have made question time in the House any easier for her. Just imagine it: You are trying to find the figures for the number of children taking Hard Sums in the Soke of Peterborough in your folder when you suddenly feel the most ghastly pain. No wonder she struggled sometimes. Still, Mr Gladstone would scourge himself at the drop of a hat, and no one thought any the less of him for it.
Thursday
At the village shop I encounter my old friend Mark Oaten – his days as Rising Star the Indian brave now far behind him, I fear. “Another gross of Kit-Kat, Mr Patel,” he demands, and I am not surprised to see that he has a bit of a tummy on him. It transpires that he is trying to obtain a Golden Ticket that will win him ingress to something called “The Big Brother House” and numerous appearances on the electric television as a result. He assures me that this is the key to his rehabilitation, but I have my doubts. Mind you, I did see our own Julia Goldsworthy take part in some form of sports day, and enjoyed it thoroughly.
Friday
The morning brings news that the first printing of The Bonkers Code has already sold out: I allow myself a second helping of kedgeree. When I stroll down to the village, however, I find the place in turmoil. So vast are the crowds come to view the ceiling painting of the Circumcision of the National Liberals (to which I allude in the book) that PC Heath has had to be called for to steward them. When I return home I receive an angry telephone call from the clubhouse at Rosslyn Park where equally large numbers are demanding a site of their painting of “The First Lady Bonkers Going Over From A Five-Yard Scrum”. Then I hear cries from the garden and hurry out to find Meadowcroft, a broom in one hand and an orchard doughty in the other, driving away some people who are trying to dig up my lawn to look for the first edition of Mill’s On Liberty, the discovery of which marks the denouement of my bestseller. “They liter’ry types be nothing but trouble,” my gardener opines. I join in with a rolled-up copy of the High Leicestershire Radical and we soon command the field.
Saturday
Donning the velvet smoking jacket and wielding the cigarette holder – you know what we writers are – I go through the morning’s post: an invitation to judge the next Booker prize; another to open the annual Hull vs Grimsby croquet match; a letter asking me how to spell ‘Mississippi’; a parcel of books to review for The Times Literary Supplement. I think the literary life will suit me down to the ground.
Sunday
You may recall that poor Menzies Campbell was bullied into promising to sell his Jag during the leadership contest – he tells me that Clegg and Teather were the ringleaders. I suggested that he keep it in one of my outbuildings here at the Hall until the fuss has blown over, and he gratefully accepted the offer. This evening I decide to take her for a spin, as we don’t want her getting out of condition. As I bowl along the lanes of Rutland I ponder how to spend my windfall from the success of The Bonkers Code (I have been fielding calls from Hollywood moguls all day). The Reverend Hughes is always launching appeals to repair the roof of St Asquith’s; the Home for Retired Canvassers at Herne Bay would appreciate a cheque, no doubt; I might treat myself to another race horse – it is simply years since I won the Derby; perhaps some jube-jubes for the Well-Behaved Orphans?
At this point in my revelry there is a frightful bang and I find that I have driven the Jag into someone’s garden fence. I beat a hasty retreat, only to wake in the small hours alarmed lest the registration number has been snapped by one of these new cameras the police have everywhere. (Rather unsporting, don’t you think?) Remembering, however, that the Jag is still registered in Ming’s name, I turn over and soon go back to sleep.
The Nat West Three's Labour links
tOne of the ironies of the Nat West Three affair is that one of the accused springs from the heart of the Scottish Labour establishment.
Gary Mulgrew is the stepson* of Dr Norman Godman who was MP for Greenock and Inverclyde (and its earlier incarnations) between 1983 and 2001. His mother is Trish Godman, MSP for West Renfrewhire since 1999 and a deputy presiding officer at Holyrood.
She is quoted by the BBC as saying:
Gary Mulgrew is the stepson* of Dr Norman Godman who was MP for Greenock and Inverclyde (and its earlier incarnations) between 1983 and 2001. His mother is Trish Godman, MSP for West Renfrewhire since 1999 and a deputy presiding officer at Holyrood.
She is quoted by the BBC as saying:
* Not the son, as I originally suggested."The treaty under which my son was extradited is one-sided, unjust, ignores the principles of due process and is a licence to breach the rights of British citizens"...
"I also have grave concerns over the way ministers and most Labour MPs dealt with their case before they went to America."
Friday, July 14, 2006
"A breath can make them"
Today's House Points column from Liberal Democrat News. The Oliver Goldsmith lines are from The Deserted Village.
Auntie's elite
Sunday’s World Cup Final was watched by 17 million people on BBC1 and only 3.5 million on ITV. When you take John Motson into account, there can be no clearer sign of the central place Auntie occupies in the life of the nation.
Yet the following day the Commons debate on the BBC’s new Charter was tinged with sadness, because it may not be so central in the future. Will the licence fee survive when it becomes impossible to say where television ends and the Internet begins? As Paul Holmes said, we will be in a different world.
Back in this one, there are two words that sum up the BBC’s current difficulties: Jonathan Ross.
Their problem is not his crass question to David Cameron, which still exercised several Tory MPs, but the dilemma he symbolises.
For the BBC is funded by the nearest thing we have to a poll tax. This clearly needs to be justified, but does it justify it through quality or through winning a mass audience? It is tempting to say that it cannot do both, except that the BBC has managed precisely that many times over the years.
Yet the huge payments that Ross and lesser figures like Chris Moyles receive suggest BBC managers are in thrall to people they think will deliver a large youth audience. Ross is not without talent, though the best thing he does – his Saturday morning radio show – owes much to the musical tastes of his producer.
But it is hard even to begin making the case for paying him £6 million a year when most BBC staff are suffering a pay squeeze. Their managers defend huge salaries for performers (and themselves) by appealing to the market. If we don’t pay them this sort of money, someone else will.
The answer to that is simple. Let them go. The backwaters of British broadcasting are teeming with people who thought that life would be better away from the BBC. Just ask Des Lynam. “I’ll have another consonant please, Carol.”
Or as Oliver Goldsmith put it:
Auntie's elite
Sunday’s World Cup Final was watched by 17 million people on BBC1 and only 3.5 million on ITV. When you take John Motson into account, there can be no clearer sign of the central place Auntie occupies in the life of the nation.
Yet the following day the Commons debate on the BBC’s new Charter was tinged with sadness, because it may not be so central in the future. Will the licence fee survive when it becomes impossible to say where television ends and the Internet begins? As Paul Holmes said, we will be in a different world.
Back in this one, there are two words that sum up the BBC’s current difficulties: Jonathan Ross.
Their problem is not his crass question to David Cameron, which still exercised several Tory MPs, but the dilemma he symbolises.
For the BBC is funded by the nearest thing we have to a poll tax. This clearly needs to be justified, but does it justify it through quality or through winning a mass audience? It is tempting to say that it cannot do both, except that the BBC has managed precisely that many times over the years.
Yet the huge payments that Ross and lesser figures like Chris Moyles receive suggest BBC managers are in thrall to people they think will deliver a large youth audience. Ross is not without talent, though the best thing he does – his Saturday morning radio show – owes much to the musical tastes of his producer.
But it is hard even to begin making the case for paying him £6 million a year when most BBC staff are suffering a pay squeeze. Their managers defend huge salaries for performers (and themselves) by appealing to the market. If we don’t pay them this sort of money, someone else will.
The answer to that is simple. Let them go. The backwaters of British broadcasting are teeming with people who thought that life would be better away from the BBC. Just ask Des Lynam. “I’ll have another consonant please, Carol.”
Or as Oliver Goldsmith put it:
Princes and Lords may flourish, or may fade:
A breath can make them, as a breath has made;
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,
When once destroyed can never be supplied.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Lord Levy: We are a grandmother
All governments lose touch with reality eventually. Remember Mrs Thatcher's "We are a grandmother"?
The words of Lord Levy's lawyer - speaking on behalf of one of Blair's inner circle - suggest that this one is now in orbit around a very distant planet.
The words of Lord Levy's lawyer - speaking on behalf of one of Blair's inner circle - suggest that this one is now in orbit around a very distant planet.
Lord Levy may find there is an unfortunate obstacle to this willingness to co-operate with the police. Back in April Guido Fawkes repeated a Peter Oborne story from the Spectator (the original story now seems to have disappeared):"Lord Levy remains deeply, deeply disappointed that the police decided that they should use their powers of arrest for the meeting.
"Lord Levy has always been ready and willing to co-operate and to meet the police at any time of their choosing.
"He has always been only too willing, also, to provide the police with any documents that they might have needed, and he continues to do so."
it emerges that the Marylebone offices of the New Labour treasurer, Lord Levy, have been devastated by a mysterious fire. This took place last November, well before the police investigation began and around the time the House of Lords Appointments Commission raised the first queries concerning Tony Blair’s list. When I rang Downing Street for a reassurance that no papers relevant to the police investigation had been destroyed, I was informed that ‘that is a matter for Lord Levy’.I expect he was deeply, deeply disappointed by the fire too.
Yesterday's extradition debate
All Liberal Democrats should read David Heath's speech summing up yesterday's Commons debate on the UK-US extradition treaty. He lays bare the Tories' complacency in earlier debates and the government's... well, let's be charitable and call it stupidity rather than deceit.
Other highlights came from Dominic Grieve:
Other highlights came from Dominic Grieve:
And, taking valuable time off from his stage shows, George Galloway:I have seen the political briefing provided to the Solicitor-General, which starts with the heading:
“Not allowing crime to escape over borders versus supporting the PR campaign of multi-millionaires charged in relation to the biggest fraud in US corporate history.”
At the end, it says:
“The Lib Dems have been spun by opportunistic PR merchants. We are fighting to get the benefits of the treaty for Britain to tackle crime. The opposition are supporting the campaign of multimillionaire bankers accused of serious crimes.”
That is the level of discourse that we are getting.
All we want is a special relationship that does not resemble that between Miss Lewinsky and a former United States President: unequal, disreputable and with the junior partner always on their knees.
Alvin Stardust and the fall of New Labour
In 1973 I rather liked Alvin Stardust. Those were the days when Luxemburg was the station you listened to under the bedclothes when you were meant to be going to sleep. And Stardust's first single - "My Coo-Ca-Choo" - was played on Luxemburg for weeks before the BBC picked it up and it became a hit.
But what would anyone in 1973 have made of a prediction that one day the arrest of Alvin Stardust's manager would lead to excited talk of the government falling?
I had the same thought a couple of years ago when, walking through London, I saw newspaper placards saying "GARY GLITTER MAY FACE FIRING SQUAD".
It's a trite thought, but isn't it strange how things turn out?
But what would anyone in 1973 have made of a prediction that one day the arrest of Alvin Stardust's manager would lead to excited talk of the government falling?
I had the same thought a couple of years ago when, walking through London, I saw newspaper placards saying "GARY GLITTER MAY FACE FIRING SQUAD".
It's a trite thought, but isn't it strange how things turn out?
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
More on Lord Levy
This article from 1997 gives some background on Levy's career in the record industy.
Alvin Stardust, Pete Waterman, Chris Rea... they are all there.
Alvin Stardust, Pete Waterman, Chris Rea... they are all there.
Extradition to the USA
Nick Clegg is playing a blinder on the Nat West Three. Here is his appeal for help:
Today we won an unprecedented victory against the Government in a debate on the lop-sided Extradition Treaty with the United States.
Three former employees of Nat West bank, together with south Londoner Babar Ahmed and up to 20 more British residents, face extradition to the United States under a treaty signed in 2003 that grants fewer rights to British citizens than to Americans.
Just four Labour MPs voted in favour of the treaty in the symbolic vote called by the Liberal Democrats this afternoon.
UK citizens can be extradited to the US without the United States having to make a clear "prima facie" case that they committed a crime. Yet we need to meet a much higher level of proof if we wish to extradite US citizens to the UK.
Adding insult to injury, the Government hasn't even convinced the US Senate to ratify the treaty.
The Liberal Democrats have been campaigning against this treaty for three years - ever since it was signed. We were the only party that voted against the extradition rules when they were brought into force.
But the battle isn't over: the Nat West Three, to be extradited tomorrow, are only the tip of the iceberg. Many other extradition cases are in the pipeline, and will be decided under this unfair treaty unless the Government acts now.
Thanks to today's debate and vote, the House of Commons has signalled its clear condemnation of the Extradition Treaty. Now we need you to do the same.
Please write to the Solicitor General and ask him to support my Extradition (United States of America) Bill that would repeal parts of the Extradition Act 2003 and bring an end to these unfair extradition procedures:
Mike O'Brien
House of Commons
London SW1A 0AA(Personal letters are the most effective way of lobbying him).
With your help, we can put even more pressure on the Government to take action.
Rogue elephant
The Guardian says:
He may find that they are a rather select group.
The former home secretary Charles Clarke yesterday sharply criticised his successor, John Reid, for postponing the programme of police force mergers, describing it as a "weak and damaging" decision that will seriously hamper the fight against terrorism.Yes, Charles Clarke is basing his campaign for political rehabilitation on an appeal to people who believe John Reid is a wet liberal.
He may find that they are a rather select group.
Lord Levy: The story so far
The BBC reports:
This is the place to go for the inside story.
Tony Blair's chief fundraiser Lord Levy has been arrested and bailed in connection with the "cash-for-honours" inquiry by the Metropolitan Police.Guido Fawkes has been on Levy's case since March. Today he has published an invaluable summary of links to all his postings on the man.
This is the place to go for the inside story.
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