Kelvin kicks a Cocklecarrot!

I wish it to be known that this blog makes every effort to ascertain the facts and to establish the truth of every statement we make.  I make this declaration to assuage the Lordly irritation likely to erupt from Cocklecarrot Leveson as he sits conducting his worse than useless, because it is highly dangerous, investigation into our (so far) free press.

This morning I watched perhaps the best bit of TV I have seen for yonks.  Up in the dock at the witness table was Kelvin MacKenzie, former editor of The Sun - We Love It! in front of His Lordship Leveson. It was like watching two majestic ships of the line passing each other at dead of night, both sending signals which the other was unable to decipher.  Rather surprisingly, 'Mac the knife' MacKenzie remained fairly quiet and reasonable which must have irritated Cocklecarrot Leveson no end because you just knew that he was itching to send MacKenzie down to the cells to cool his heels at the first sign of insubordination.

Needless to say, for possibly the first time in this long, tedious waste of oxygen in which the only winners will be the lawyers (so no change there, then) some realism was introduced.  This caused many intakes of breath and several pursed lips, to say nothing of someone erupting in the public gallery because, of course, lawyers do not operate in the real world.  Theirs is a 'construction' in which incidents, I will not add to their dim lustre by calling them facts, are carefully arranged and presented to give a version of events.  Not the truth, you understand, you silly little naïf,  just a hopefully coherent story-line (bit like a paper, really) to fit the needs of their client who is, after all, paying for young Roddy and Emily to go to Public School!

Not that this was a trial, thank goodness, because it was obvious that 'izz 'Onour has already made up his mind and had probably done so before even the less than lovelyAnne Diamond and the insufferably smug and stupid Hugh Grant, to say nothing of the deeply unpleasant Max Mosley (a man who achieved the impossible by making his father seem not too bad)  had appeared before him to weep all over the witness table.  But today, in breezed our 'ero, Kelvin, the composer of "Up Yours, Delors", "Gotcha!" and sundry other jewels of the headline writing fraternity.  He tried, with remarkable patience (for him), to explain what real life was like but it was all quite beyond His Lordship who attempted to patronise our Kelvin and received a few neat jabs for his troubles.

There will be two winners and two losers when this farce runs to a close.  The winners will be Cocklecarrot Leveson who from being an obscure and fairly dim judge will now achieve fame, and the political class who will now feel much freer to rip us all off.  The losers will be the newspapers who will be unable to print the gossip that so titillates us all and will thus lose even more money until they disappear altogether, and the final and biggest loser of the lot will be  - YOU and ME!

 

Comments

[dearieme]

Do cheer up. Some rogue at one of the papers is probably listening in to Leveson's phone and reading his e-mails.

[David Duff]

Poor chap, I suspect he might die of boredom!