Peter Rhodes: A pinch of salt with the celery
A MIDLAND jewel, quotable politicians and Jeremy, the Brexiteer.
WHEN is a find not a find? When it was never lost. The BBC's excitement about the “discovery” of a £1 million Faberge jewel during an Antiques Roadshow edition from the Black Country Living Museum should be taken with a large pinch of salt.
THE pear-blossom jewel, hailed by the Beeb as “one of the most significant jewellery finds in 40 years of Antiques Roadshow history,” is in fact well known. It is one of the most famous and valuable treasures of the British Army, and can easily be found on the internet. It is the Regimental Jewel of The Queen's Own Worcestershire Hussars. It was commissioned by the then Countess of Dudley and presented to the volunteer cavalry regiment in recognition of its service in South Africa during the Boer War 1899-1902. Popping up on Antiques Roadshow, this “find” will have been instantly recognised by hundreds of serving and former Territorial Army soldiers in the Midlands. The Jewel is beautifully crafted but not at all flashy. The first time I saw it, at a regimental dinner in the 1970s, I thought it was the celery.
GOT the message yet, kids? Vote Jeremy and you vote to leave the European Union. It should not come as a surprise but then Corbyn played an absolute blinder during the election campaign. He persuaded Remainers that he didn't really want to leave the EU, while also persuading Brexiteers that he didn't really want to stay. Many of the young, who voted for him because he says kind things and has an allotment, are beginning to realise that Corbyn is deadly serious about Brexit, hence last week's front-bench sackings.
JEREMY Corbyn and I have one thing in common. Last year, we both recognised the Brexit movement as a genuine working-class rebellion, possibly the last we will ever see. I want Brexit because I don't want Britain to be a collection of mini-cantons in a superstate. Comrade Jez wants Brexit because the socialist Utopia he has in mind, with vast state investment in our industries, is utterly forbidden within the EU. Politics makes strange bedfellows.
A GUARDIAN reader complains: “Whenever I type 'Corbyn' my phone predicts 'carbuncle'.”
SPOT the missing ingredient in the reported “outrage” about kids being allowed to play with replica guns at a West Midlands police firing range? It was, of course, outrage. There was none. Kids, parents and cops seemed perfectly happy with the event. Desperate to find anyone even vaguely outraged, hacks were reduced to trawling social media, that great repository of anonymous numpties, for suitable quotes. In the good old days, before politicians were expected to be always on-message, a few MPs would help reporters in such a fix. The late Anthony Beaumont-Dark, MP for Birmingham Selly Oak, was said to have the ability “to become instantly angry on any given subject.”
IN the absence of such quotable politicians, where can hacks turn for instant, attributable quotes on any topic? I am proud to launch OIO, the Organisation for Instant Outrage. Trouble making a story stand up? Simply call OIO and we'll give you the perfect headline-making quote you're looking for. Kids playing with guns? Disgraceful. Kids not playing with guns? Wimpish.