Thursday, 8 November 2012


There I was driving through Richmond Park in the morning mist, mellow fruitfulness, deer antlers, sun blistering orange about the horizon, the frost tinting the trees, bliss, you get the idea.  Keats would have been inspired.  Turned on the radio which is stuck on Radio Four and can't get it off but that's ok as the other stations at the moment irritate me.   Teresa May was talking very hesitantly about an inquiry and how the government were going to have an inquiry into an inquiry.  About the inquiry into abuse at a particular home in North Wales to see if it was done properly.  Does that matter? Is that the point?  She kept going on about how child abuse was dreadful.  Using the most exotic adjectives.   Erm, hands up first person who disagrees.  She came across as crass.   There's a list on the internet with the names of those allegedly guilty. It took Philip Scholfield three minutes to find it. I still can't find them.   This is turning into a year of Revelations.  Just we're not doing anything with them, are we?

No comments:

Post a comment