Kicking In The Teeth

Old Blair hand though he is, I do feel genuinely sorry for someone like Duncan Enright, who has to look at the likes of David T.C. Davies in Parliament when he himself is not.

The one thing to be said for a Conservative Government is that the nation gets to be entertained by that party's rich seam of loudmouthed loonies on the backbenches.

Davies himself professes to be only 46, leading one to suppose that he would be better off in UKIP, the members of which always look 15 years older than they really are.

In my time, I have been out with girls who had been born before Paul Nuttall. Yet he looks as if he could be my father. Something that, flabbergastingly, even Nigel Farage could not quite legally be.

The solution to such suspicion is not, however, dental tests.

Those were banned for that purpose in this country as long ago as 1982 (remind me who was the Prime Minister in 1982), and in any case the British Dental Association is adamant that they do not work.

The BDA seems to be amazed to find people who are still alive and who think that dental tests for age do work. Never mind people like that who claim that they themselves were only 12 years old in 1982.

As to whether that picture in The Sun was of an interpreter, enough people believe it that it might as well have been, and politically that is what matters.

The Sun has this week been confronted with the fact that the general population now automatically believes in the falsehood of anything that it prints.

Let the cake be iced when more people vote to give Gary Lineker that National Television Award, sponsored by The Sun, than the entire circulation of The Sun itself.

And then let that publication shriek on to its heart's content that it was right about the picture. Nobody cares, dear. They care only about hating and humiliating you, your former editor, and your proprietor.

If you want reasons for that, then there are 96.

Or count the dead in Iraq.