Wisdom and dumber

THE Diary was most impressed by the presidential debate between Donald Trump and Joe Biden, as were many of our readers. Gary Logan says he still recalls the last time he witnessed such wisdom, erudition and passion tempered by good manners. “The only difference between that occasion and the present one,” he adds, “was that Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks wore leotards.”

Sobering thought

PUBLIC outrage was narrowly averted when it was made clear that the Palace of Westminster’s bars would close at 10pm, along with the rest of the country’s watering holes.

Martin Morrison from Lochinver disagrees with the decision, arguing that Parliament’s drinking dens should open at 10 instead. “That way our elected representatives might be able to stay sober during the day while making critical decisions that affect everyone else,” he explains, perhaps a tad cynically.

The Diary would like to support our reader’s ambitious plan, though we have one niggling concern.

If this is how we’re ruled when our parliamentary overlords are squiffy, what plans might they concoct if they managed to make their way to the Commons in an undiluted form?

Brought to book

OPTIMISTIC reader David Donaldson believes in taking a positive attitude to lockdown restrictions. He’s contemplating writing a guide book (with illustrations) showing all the fun things you can do socially without breaking the rules. The book’s title? The Joy of Six.

Party time

WHEN the actor Laurence Fox insouciantly revealed he was launching his own political party our competitive readers declared their plans to do likewise.

Henry Barker tells us the key pledge of his new party will be to make Parliament more like a TV reality show.

The Speaker of the House of Commons will be Simon Cowell, and every week the public will vote an MP out of a job.

“That should get things moving,” says Henry, who has a snappy name for his new organisation… The Reality Check Party.


WE continue collecting words for our updated dictionary. Bill Rutherford from Galashiels suggests: Spinach, n. A skin irritation contracted from sitting near Dominic Cummings.

Abbreviated angst

WE live in bamboozling times. Stewart Daniels from Cairneyhill points out that even the weekly calendar seems to be increasingly confused and exasperated as it staggers towards the end of the week. “After Monday and Tuesday, it reads WTF,” he points out.

Malevolent military manoeuvres

IN a highly suspicious mood, Ian Noble from Carstairs Village asks: “Who is General Failure and why is he reading my hard drive?”

Read more: Those were the days