I blame the scapegoats (31 page)

are
screaming for more. We've had paediatricians attacked because people got that
confused with paedophile. Who's next? I've got relations in Ireland called
'Paddy O'Farrell’; that sounds a bit like 'paedophile' - maybe the mob should
storm their houses as well. And as for Iraqi paedophiles posing as asylum
seekers, well, they're the worst of the lot.

The
eagerness to tar Jacko with the worst possible brush is like one of the cheap
thrills in his empty funfair. Yes, he is creepy and self-deluding but that
doesn't automatically mean he must be evil. Nothing is black and white -
especially in Michael Jackson's case. Apparently he was horrified by Bashir's
documentary, saying, 'I am surprised that a professional journalist would
compromise his integrity by deceiving me.' Blimey, he's even more detached from
reality than we thought. Jacko's PR adviser should have warned him that doing
this film was a bad idea, that it might be edited in such a way as to make the
singer seem a trifle eccentric. Sadly, Michael's PR adviser is a llama and so
was unable to do this. And so now Bashir's really put the star's nose out of
joint. That should keep the plastic surgeons busy for a while.

22
February 2003

This
is the year that the government is supposed to make a decision on whether to
allow commercial growing of genetically modified crops. The farm trials began
three years ago and they had hoped that they'd get away without having to
decide one way or the other because there wouldn't be any farms left by now.
The immediate problem is remembering exactly which fields the farmers planted
the GM crops in. 'Was it that one?' 'Er, might have been, or it could have been
that one
...
I dunno, us farmers have
had a lot on our minds you know.'

This
month's conference on GM crops did not cause quite the stir that had been
hoped. One appalled environmentalist spoke from the platform about the terrible
threat to one of our best-known native species. 'Unless action is taken soon,'
she implored, 'we will see the deliberate extinction of the stinging nettle!!'
There was an awkward silence as delegates contemplated such a scenario.
'Imagine the stinging nettle completely disappearing from our gardens and
footpaths!'

'Erm, yeah, well, I think I could probably
live with that,' said someone at the back.

'Me too,' echoed a couple in the row in front
and a positive murmur went round the whole hall as delegates imagined their
kids falling into a bed of the GM 'tickling nettle'.

The geneticists
promise us that GM plants offer a brave new world in which you could park your
car underneath a sycamore tree without the windscreen getting all sticky. One
day it will be possible to eat a three-bean salad and then lay a carpet with
confidence. All sorts of adjustments can be made to everyday plants: there'll
be a mould that is the same colour as the non-slip bath mat, an end to the
trauma of that one unopenable pistachio nut and a new minty-fresh garlic
redesigned so the skin doesn't get all stuck in the garlic crusher. One
inspired scientist has even managed to put a cannabis gene into a cocoa plant
so that you can get stoned and cure the munchies all at the same time.

But many opponents of GM food are wary of the
Hitlerian concept of genetic super-species, even if this time round we are
talking about broccoli. Can the Americans really be trusted to meddle in the incredibly
complex genetic make-up of plants without adding tomato ketchup to everything?
The balance of the natural world is very fragile, with many animals and plants
depending upon one another for their propagation and survival. For example, the
lily has evolved so that its pollen can be dispersed only by people with clean
white shirts brushing against it at drinks parties. History has shown us that
every change we make to the ecosystem will have a knock-on effect that we did
not foresee. For example, we are rapidly losing the natural habitat of that special
moss that grows only on the bumpers of Triumph Heralds. Of course, mankind has
been interfering in nature since prehistoric farmers first learnt to apply for
subsidies. Without selective breeding and the development of new species the
world would be a very different place. There'd only be one sort of lettuce and
husbands would no longer come back from the supermarket in fear that they'd got
the wrong one. David Blunkett would have a 'Guide Wolf for the Blind'. And the
guide wolf would sit patiently at his feet during Home Office questions while
the opposition took great care to agree with every single point the minister
made.

But
interfering directly with the genetic make-up of crops is very different indeed
because of the scientific process involved. What the geneticists do is, well,
it's hard to explain exactly, but um, there's this DNA stuff and then, er,
chromosomes and well, I think they take out all the genes and then they mix up
the GM with the DNA or something - well, anyway, I don't like the sound of it.
However, one thing that we can all understand is that increased food production
won't automatically feed the starving millions. The promise that GM crops will
bring an end to malnutrition is a bogus one. We already have enough food to
feed everyone in the world. Increasing food production with GM crops might
boost profits and surpluses but it won't make any difference to the way that
food and, more importantly, power is distributed in this world. Meanwhile we
are being hurriedly led down a rather treacherous path through a field of GM
triffids, and this time I'm not sure I trust the bloke with the Ordnance Survey
map who claims he knows where he's going. Two things are certain with GM crops:
firstly, there are bound to be disastrous ecological side-effects that no one
ever foresaw; and secondly, they'll never modify Brussels sprouts enough for
kids to try one on Christmas Day. And in the meantime the food companies will
keep assuring us that eating GM vegetables has no dangerous side-effects. Yeah,
right, so how come the Jolly Green Giant ended up looking like that then?

I
March 2003

It
is a dilemma that has split Europe, that consumes Washington, NATO and the
corridors of Westminster. Should UN troops be used to bring about regime change
at the top of the Conservative Party? Is it really morally acceptable for us to
stand by and watch the terrible suffering that IDS is causing Conservative
supporters? Would it not be more humane in the long term for the UN to step in
and topple his extremist military leadership and install a regime that offers
some hope to desperate Tory Party members?

From
his bunker in Central Office come reports of increasing paranoia and panic as
Duncan Smith ruthlessly 'disposes' of any former ally that he imagines might
threaten his position. His deputies walk in terror that they may be next to be
'disappeared' or, worse, may be forced to endure the terrible torture of
listening to IDS explaining his position on the Euro.

The latest crisis in the Tory Party was
triggered when prominent Conservatives Mark MacGregor and Rick Nye were
dramatically sacked. Newspaper offices were thrown into a frenzy when this news
came down the wire.

'So, um, who's going
to cover this one then?'

'Er, sports desk, maybe? I've got a feeling
one of them might be manager of Farnborough Town.'

'No, it must be an
entertainment story - they're actors in
Emmerdale,
I'm
sure of it. . .'

But for the more liberal Conservative MPs who
understood that these sackings represented another lurch to the right, their
fury could not have been greater if someone had passed the cannabis round the
wrong way.

Michael
Portillo promptly launched an attack on IDS's leadership, accusing him of
surrounding himself with pygmies. As it happens, there are indeed a number of
four-foot-high Equatorial Africans working in IDS's private office who were
rather offended by this remark. The leader duly hit back and the political row
reached such a pitch over the weekend that
Breakfast
with Frost
was actually watched by someone who wasn't a
politician or living in an old people's home. Thank goodness Norman Tebbit was
on hand to add some measured sanity to the debate on modernization. 'I could
count on the fingers of the right hand of a Finsbury Park Muslim cleric the
number of voters who have asked me to support the legalization of sex in public
lavatories or instruction in oral sex in schools.' But surely all three parties
are agreed that these are key planks in British domestic policy! I suppose we
should just be grateful that there were no veiled personal attacks on Michael
Portillo.

With the threat of war damaging the government's
standing in the polls, the Conservatives ought to be brimming with confidence.
In fact, many Conservatives are suggesting to him that the Gulf crisis might be
the one issue on which Duncan Smith could really make an impact.

'What you should do,
Iain, is go to Iraq for a bit.'

'What, to negotiate
with Saddam Hussein, you mean?'

'Er,
if you want, but just get a feel for the place. We've rented you a little flat
next door to the Baghdad armaments factory - it's a six-month lease.'

But of course we don't have to wait for the
Conservatives to remove him as leader of the opposition. It is theoretically in
the gift of the Parliamentary Labour Party to make the Liberals the official
opposition. A hundred or so Labour backbenchers could decide to cross the floor
of the house to join the Liberals, so that the Lib Dems then became the second
largest party. Admittedly Labour would not be in such a commanding position in
the Commons, but it wouldn't matter because these former Labour MPs would have
a curious tendency to defy the Liberal whip and consistently vote with the
Labour government. Iain Duncan Smith would then be the leader of a minor party
which would finally tear itself apart in a mire of back-stabbing and
recriminations.

But of course the government actually want
IDS in place for as long as possible, so for once the crisis in the Tory Party
is bad news for Labour. It's a chilling thought that it's not Portillo who is
the covert ally of New Labour, but Norman Tebbit and the other far-right
supporters of the current leadership. Meanwhile the Tories remain fundamentally
divided on the major issues of the day, such as 'Which one's Ant and which
one's Dec?' More importantly, there is growing panic in the Parliamentary Party
that Iain Duncan Smith consistently fails to make any impact. Their leader
strenuously denied this, although no one can quite remember what he actually
said. Journalists have reduced his name to three letters, but even typing 'IDS'
feels like more effort than he really justifies. Tory MPs had been hoping that
their leader would grow into the job, but it turns out that there is less to
him than meets the eye. Unless the Tories make major gains in May's local
elections, then IDS may well be in his job for even less time than Saddam
Hussein's anger therapist.

7
March 2003

Accusations
of fraud in TV game shows are nothing new. Police are currently looking into a
claim that a number of the participants in
I'm
a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here!
were not in fact
celebrities at all, but rather tragic rejects from the provincial panto
circuit. On another occasion an imposter on
Mastermind
was prevented from entering the studio when police
noticed he was wearing vaguely fashionable clothes. And there was also outrage
recently on
University Challenge,
when
the captain of some Oxbridge team actually allowed the token female to give her
correct response herself, rather than confidently repeating her whispered
answer as if he'd known it all along.

But
the allegations currently occupying Southwark Crown Court are far more serious
because of the prize involved. I'm not saying that the commemorative glass bowl
that the BBC dished out to the winner of
Mastermind
was
a worthless piece of tat, not at all; it's just that given the choice I suspect
many of the winners might have preferred a million quid.

But now the third person to win the ultimate
prize on
Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?
stands
accused of cheating. This week the defendant took the witness box and the
prosecution's cross-examination began. 'Are you Major Charles Ingram from
Easterton, Wiltshire?' The courtroom lights dimmed, and the electronic heartbeat
of the
Millionaire
theme
tune pulsated underneath as all eyes fell on the Major. But they always start
off with a really easy question and Ingram came straight back with the correct
answer as the jury breathed a sigh of relief and burst into applause. 'Question
number two: Are you guilty or not guilty of the charges brought against you?'
At this point he considered going fifty/fifty but opted instead to phone a
friend, in this case his lawyer, who reckoned he ought to plump for 'Not
Guilty'. Final answer? asked the judge. 'Final answer,' he confirmed.