The whiff of the jackboot is ever present with this Lowe-life’s passion for giving others a good kicking.

And this pasty, fey, anxious ghost of a human being thinks people like him should have sole dominion of this country’s parliament? God help us all.

Beautifully done; thank you.

A pretty much perfect play, I think. I was, and remain, ravished by it (and I guess because he was playing with history and love and lust, in a Derbyshire country house, I could more easily swallow the dazzling but baffling science). What a man.

The shame of it. Trump wins an endorsement of his alternative facts, from the most trusted broadcaster in the world. And this will be applauded by all the fetid ‘global Britain’ brexiteer grubs who see no irony in their desire to destroy the last great and truly global British brand.

The irony (which perhaps the BBC realises?) is that this censorship is worth far more to Trump than his spurious $$$ damages claim would do. Spirit crushed, alternative facts endorsed, freedom from honest scrutiny embedded. What more does a despotic child want?

‘I’ll defend to the death the BBC’s right to agree with me’

When people show you who they are, believe them the first time.

Yes, we know how this one goes: Trump has always been ‘lovely’ to his black butler; Hitler had good manners and was ‘good’ with children; Blair’s Iraq intentions were just, and anyway, he can only be judged now by God.
When people like Farage show you who they are, believe them the first time.

What a sweet notion, presupposing they have one that isn’t permanently pointing towards whoever will give them the rampant, unregulated free market they all worship. Quaint old notions of morality, patriotism, a common good, even conservatism, are ruthlessly sawn into pieces if profit is threatened.

Unbelievably depressing read, and the Shakespearean tragedy of it is real. After the unutterable horrors of Brexit and the barrel scraping PMs the Tory hardcore gifted us, it was so good to feel that a decent person, more interested in others than himself, was in place. But there’s no one there.

I think we’re down to Lawrence Fox, perhaps the Princess of Wales (but only if she’s ‘tragically’ ill) and whoever these foaming fascistic dregs see in the mirror.

🥇

For William & Charles, this is now a very delicate & potentially dangerous game of jenga. How many (historically made-up) rules/conventions/traditions can they tear up or modify without us realising that none of it is a fact of life or immutable truth, & the whole ropey edifice comes tumbling down.

I can’t see the shelves for his top-secret box files. Maybe he’ll just stack them in the bath, in front of all that ‘historic’ marble.

I wonder if it would or will ever occur to him to study the post-scandal life of Profumo, who quietly forged a life of service to others, a concept that I imagine (since his military days at least) would be a revelatory journey into the unknown for Andrew MW.