THE GROTESQUE AND THE FANTASTIC

Scotland has many merits, too extensive to enumerate here, but one of them is her production of Scotland’s second national drink, iconic Irn-Bru a fizzy soft drink, coloured a lurid orange with a distinctive flavour like, one imagines, sweet metal filings. It outsells mighty Coca Cola in Scotland and is wildly popular enriching its manufacturer, A G Barr, over many generations. To the horror of all Caledonia, Irn-Bru has been banned from the palatial Ayrshire golfing hotel Turnberry owned by eccentric Donald Trump. It is alleged that upset Irn-Bru leaves an indelible stain and that replacing Turnberry carpets cost £500k a time. I smell some fantasy “fake news” here, as the truth may be that the Donald secretly shampoos his amazing barnet of hair in our famous concoction to enhance its hue. In any event, who cares about Kim Jong Un or the Iranian Agreement – the Trump-Turnberry ban on Irn-Bru must immediately be lifted to prevent huge demonstrations of irate soft-drinkers from menacing Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow.

Scotland's fizzy pride

To move from the lightly fantastic to the reliably grotesque it will not have escaped my readers that last Saturday saw the annual camp gala a.k.a. The Eurovision Song Contest. I am now a fading fan, my predictions never blossoming, and I watched the first round of heats but was defeated by the second. The final is however unmissable. As usual the UK entry was nowhere, our gallant songstress having been assaulted on-stage by a so-called “activist” who grabbed her mike. It transpired he was just an attention-seeking Corbynista – our world is replete with “activists” – I am reading an appalling manifesto called The 21^st Century Revolution, whose author has swallowed every weary nostrum about climate change, inequality, the evils of neo-liberalism and so on; he describes himself as “a veteran change agent”, not a profession I recognise nor admire.

There were one or two bearable euro-performances, I rather liked the Estonian pop-opera singer Elina Nechayeva who had a strong voice and whose huge dress changed colour spectacularly at regular intervals or even the noisy Cyprus pop song performed by sexily energetic Eleni Fouriena. In the event the grotesque won the day and the winner, Toy, came from Israel. The singer, Netta, with Mickey Mouse hair-buns, dressed in a mini-kimono, sang this bizarre number cross-eyed while prancing around imitating a demented chicken. The Lisbon crowd loved it – it was fun but far removed from music, harmony or culture. OMG, Next year in Jerusalem!

Netta wows them in Lisbon

A more sinisterly grotesque event was played out last week on the comfy red benches of the once august House of Lords. Their lordships inflicted 12 voting defeats on the government in the debate on the Withdrawal from the European Union Bill. The convention is (and “conventions” oil the wheels of political business in the UK) that the Lords do not reject bills upon which the electorate has already made a decision but confine themselves to a revising role. But it is quite clear that the Lords are hell-bent on destroying Brexit legislation, defying the verdict of the 2016 referendum and the 2017 general election that the voters want out of the EU. The Lords, believing in their Divine Right of entitlement and wallowing in their contempt for the views of the majority of ordinary people, have chosen to fight to the last ditch. Well, they are merely committing political suicide, not before time.

These Lords are not the old hereditary peers (there are only about 100 of them left, “hereditary pains in the backside” as depicted by cartoonist Matt) but the more than 600 life peers created promiscuously by Blair, Brown, Major, Cameron and Clegg. These life peers are mainly Establishment figures, burnt-out civil servants, now-extinct volcanic ministers, superannuated ambassadors and retired judges; in the way of old fools, most bear some grudge against the powers -that- be who pushed them “upstairs” despite their highly enviable and comfortable billets. Many receive absurdly high pensions (undeclared) from the EU or her agencies. To attend the Lords, they receive a £300 daily allowance and can claim travelling expenses, often abused.

Nemesis is at hand for this motley crew. It is the work of a busy morning to swamp them by the creation of 800 new pro-government Lords appointees followed swiftly by the passing of a Lords Abolition Act, reforming the Upper House comprehensively and bringing finally to an end the world of titles, ermine robes and boundless arrogance. Theresa May is too indecisive and Jeremy Corbyn too wet to push through such a measure but Boris or Moggie have the required cojones. Let them loose!

SMD

15.05.18.  

Text copyright © Sidney Donald 2018