IS A column nothing more than a rant?
The thought arises after a letter writer has a rant at this column for ranting. Specifically for left-wing ranting.
This strikes me as quite unfair. Sometimes this column is a wingless rant, leaning neither left nor right; sometimes it is a politics-free rant; and occasionally it's a what-can-I-write-about-this-week sort of rant.
Not wishing to disappoint my detractor, I am sitting here wondering what to rant about this week. There might be something in that young French chap who nearly brought down the bank he worked for.
Jerome Kerviel is the geeky-looking Parisian and rogue trader who stands accused of the world's biggest banking fraud. Exactly why he did what he did remains a mystery, but what appears to be undisputed is that his financial gambling cost his employers, the French bank Société Générale, £3.7 billion.
That one rogue money trader can bring a bank to the brink of financial meltdown seems remarkable. That his actions should see the world's free markets wobble is truly scary.
I would like to be able to comment on this apocalyptic near-collapse of capitalism, on the reckless ways of free-market economics, on how global banking seems to have gone mad. The trouble is, I don't really understand international finance. To tell the truth, I don't even understand my own bank account.
A stern-looking columnist in The Daily Telegraph newspaper wagged her finger at those of us who might wish to prophesy the collapse of world capitalism. I read her article and almost stopped running round the room shouting: "Doomed, we're all doomed! All our savings and pensions are disappearing down a big black hole."
By the way, how does a junior trader earn £75,000? In City circles, such a salary is considered piffling, apparently. Am I too old to retrain as a junior trader? Sadly, I suspect so.
Incidentally, I have been enjoying hearing assorted newsreaders competing over the pronunciation of Société Générale. All those acute accents launch them into verbal flourishes. Suddenly it sounded as though Inspector Clouseau were reading the news.
Mildly put footnote: It wasn't me, by the way, trampling over Mrs Thatcher's grave, but Elvis Costello in his song, Tramp The Dirt Down. Just thought I'd point that out.
l ANOTHER detractor sends a letter containing leader articles from the Daily Star newspaper, with regard to the general election that never was.
These, the writer says, were: "A lot more accurate than yours of events and a lot shorter than your long-winded efforts."
He then adds a post-script: "Sorry it's a bit late been busy."
I did enjoy the mixture of forthrightness and the polite apology. And I shall now move on to another topic in short-winded fashion.
l ANYWAY, what's an old leftie to do these days? Left and right don't mean much any more, at least not in the way our politics are conducted.
I never could decide if Tony Blair was a right-winger pretending to be a left winger, or a left-winger pretending to be a right-winger. In the end, I gave up caring.
Sadly, Gordon Brown, for all his high-minded seriousness, seems little better. And he doesn't even have Blair's nimble mouth and admirable way out of a tight corner. Instead, when things go wrong, which they seemingly do all the time, he just sits there glowering, then dithers for ages for before acting.
If David Cameron weren't such an issue-mugging phoney, such a posh boy pretending to be an ordinary bloke, the Tories might have a chance next time round. Perhaps they do have a chance, but personally I just don't trust "Dave" and his over-polished eager pinkness.
l AND to close: Upstairs at the Yorkshire Terrier, in Stonegate, York, was quiet last Thursday evening, until a group of councillors came in (what is the collective noun a confusion of councillors, perhaps?). How noisy and ebullient they were, apart from council leader Steve Galloway, who sat quietly before slipping away.
Why the high spirits? Perhaps the story in the next day's edition of The Press had something to do with it "11 per cent pay rise for councillors."
At least they had something to celebrate.
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