He loves me .. he loves me not .. he ... @ No 10

Boy David has wisely kept a low profile! Imagine what it's like when your friends - friends who have helped you, in times of need, are in trouble right up to their necks! What do you do? Do you rush to their aid, heedless of the consequences to your ambitions? Or do you pretend that, although you knew them, they did not mean that much to you!

Dilemma, eh? The real horns of a dilemma, I'd say. Suppose, just suppose, that those powerful friends get out of trouble - in fact they even return to their former power. They won't be best pleased with those who did not stand by them! Suppose, just suppose, that those friends don't get out of trouble but have other powerful friends who are still able to cast stones! Got to think of these scenarios - if you're aiming to stay in power.

So, poor old Boy David is biting his fingernails and scratching his head. What to do? What to do?

The answer is to look Prime Ministerial and be above it all. 'Friends? What friends? Didn't know I had any friends!' That's the safest approach for him to take. Even Wailing Lad Clegg is keeping his head down! Never know when he might need a friend of his own.

So, only one person has lifted his head above the parapet - Mililiband - Ed, that is, not David. Yes! Ed has come out fighting. He has called for News International or News Corp - not sure which - to give up trying to take control of BSkyB. It takes guts, Arturo told me, for anyone to do that: to stand up to the Murdoch Press. Depending on how the pendulum swings, this will be seen as a great victory or severe foolishness. I'll lay my money on victory! Ed has the people behind him, on this one. Besides, he has that rather endearing bewildered look about him - and you can never get angry with a bewildered child, can you?

The police on duty outside No 10 look very sheepish, I thought. Pity, really, as they're quite nice blokes, never once aimed a kick at either me or Arturo, which is more than I can say for others round here. But they are feeling tainted by all the gossip about the police getting back-handers from the Press. Everyone who comes in through the door of No 10 holds tightly onto their mobiles - particularly when they pass by the police. What a palaver!

So, as they say - it's all happening! What's more Boy David will have to face the heat tomorrow, it's the weekly PMQs. You know how he does tend to lose his cool, when he gets questioned. I expect the Press Gallery will be full to bursting. He'll be in full rehearsal mode tonight!

I'll keep you informed.

Bye!

Hellfire @ No 10

I read a tweet the other day it said: 'What Murdoch is to truth, Blair is to sanity'. I thought about it, as anyone would. I wondered what the tweeter would say about Boy David. I'm still working on it because as the days go by, things are getting worse and worse! If it was the doom-laden hand of Mephistopheles on his shoulder, last week: now it's the Devil's Claw reaching out for him!

Yes, Boy David is sinking further and further into the mire! He and some of his aides are getting the panics about Mr Coulson! One aide said to another, just a few steps away from me:
"What did we leave lying around our desks when Andy worked in the next office?"
"He didn't need it to be lying around, did he? He just knew things!"
"What sort of things?"
"Everything!"
"Oh, my God!"

So, you see there is general horror here. Who said what to whom and when did they say it? Boy David's memory is not great - so he can't recall his indiscretions. You can bet there were many though!

Now - to crown it all - that Miliband chap - Ed that is not David - is really going for it! He has the proverbial bit between his teeth and won't let go! Why didn't Boy David listen to Wailing Lad Clegg when he warned him about Andrew Coulson? Why, indeed?

It wasn't just Wailing Lad who warned him. All and sundry warned him and did so repeatedly. You can always tell an old Etonian, but you can't tell him anything! I think that's what they say! As far as Boy David is concerned that, my dears, is very true. For he knows the answers to the questions before the questions have been asked - indeed before they have even been thought up! So, such a clever fellow wasn't going to be told who to have as his right-hand man!

Now the sh** has hit the fan! Time will tell whether Boy David will get out of this one. Still, I think he should go and read Christopher Marlowe! Salutary lessons there!

Bye

Hellish smell @ No 10!

Arturo told me there was an awful stink coming from somewhere in No 10. We searched high and low. He was right, the stink was bad! We traced it to a blocked toilet deep in the inner sanctum! Plumbers will need to be called - not of the Watergate type, I hope!

Arturo also told me that Georgy, from No 11, is in a real tizzy! You see, it was Georgy - very enamoured of a certain Mr Murdoch and the red-haired vamp known as Rebekah, who encouraged Boy David to get involved with News International! Of course, our smart talking, fast moving Boy David didn't need much encouragement - he'd have done anything - almost anything - to get his foot behind the doors of No 10! Once he met the NI group, he too fell deeply in love with their promises of future greatness! He should have read Dr Faustus - instead of Politics - at Oxford.

The promises were duly delivered too! The lumbering bear, Brown, was sent off to the wilderness of the woods and the keys to the door of No 10 were presented to the trembling hands of Boy David.

But, my friends, as you all know, presents often come with a price tag. The price tag this time was one Andrew Coulson!

I expect Boy David, like Dr Faustus, must be wringing his hands and pleading for midnight to keep away.

O lente, lente, currite noctis equi!

However, there is one amazing irony in all of this. Our Mephistopheles, talking in poetic terms - you understand - Georgy from No 11, has suffered at the hands of the very people he thought would gain power for his friend. Yes! Ironic though it is - it seems that Georgy's own phone was hacked by 'The News of the World'. Whatever were they thinking of? Georgy is as removed from scandal as is the rose in the rose garden! Surely, they did not think anything salacious lurked behind his phone calls.

And now the curtain is hovering, about to come down on this tragi-comedy, this modern Dr Faustus.

Dwell on the final Chorus in Marlowe's great play, perhaps all politicians, of whatever hue, should read it before seeking power:

Faustus is gone! Regard his hellish fall,
Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise
Only to wonder at unlawful things:
Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits
To practice more than heavenly power permits.

Bye.

The Slough of Despond @ No 10

As if things could not get worse - they plummeted yesterday. Boy David sank from the Stew of Disgust to the Slough of Despond in one fell swoop.

How so, do I hear you ask? Well, it was quite an easy slippage really. You see even before our Boy David was made PM, he was being warned about the distasteful company that he kept. Obviously, the company was not distasteful to Boy David, otherwise he would not have kept up with it. But the company was more than distasteful to observers and others who were, and still are, close to him.

The company in question are the select group of 'friends' who live near his Oxfordshire constituency home. They are a very select group, they are the cognoscenti of News International - you don't get much more cognoscent than that!

Such people are, however, dangerous. They discover facts about you, your life, your family - in fact, after a while, it is difficult to detach yourself from such 'friends'. Also, you can never be certain that you actually know such friends, like Janus, their heads face in two directions! 'Yes' may mean 'No' and 'No' may means 'Yes'. They can't help it, you understand, they work for News International.

News International and its papers, 'The Sun' and 'News of the World' are now falling lower and lower in public opinion. In fact, they can't sink much lower. The idea that their reporters obtained stories via phone hacking and by paying the police was roundly denied - at first. Then, there was a tentative acceptance that - perhaps we did pay the police for certain information. This became - well, we did do it but strictly within the legal framework. Some slippage there! The Stew of Disgust is growing thicker and stickier.

As to the phone hacking - after the scandal of the royal hacking and the celebrity hacking, came the political hacking! The public were surprised but not unduly affronted. Then came the news of the Milly Dowler phone hacking - then the phone hacking of the families of the little Soham girls - then of the families of the victims of 7/7 bombings. Finally, came the news that the phones of families of servicemen killed in Afghanistan had been hacked into by person or persons unknown but linked to a certain tabloid newspaper.

And - as if all this was not bad enough - this comes at a time when the supposedly cultured Culture Secretary is to make his decision on the News International bid to take over BSkyB.

Boy David was in Afghanistan when the full enormity of this affair broke. He landed back in the UK to have his ears deafened by the din surrounding it. At PMQs, he took up an aggressive pro-active stance declaring how appalled he was by what had taken place. But he did not desert his selected friends! Oh No! Boy David is nothing, if not loyal.

Worse was to come! This morning, Arturo scampered over from No 11 to see me.

"Guess what?" He asked, whiskers bristling.

"What?"

"Georgy has had his phone hacked! He's livid! He can't believe it!"

So, my friends, I ask you: what is Boy David to do? Will he rid himself of the red-haired vamp, Rebekah? Will he discard the lanky, shifty one called Andy, who has already been forced out of working at No 10? Will he move house in Chipping Norton? This soap opera is still running. How will our hero make out? Will he survive with reputation for decency intact? Or, will he sink into that cloying sticky Slough of Despond from which there is no way out?

Arturo and I will take your bets.

Knock, knock, knocking @ No 10's door - no Heaven here!

Boy David is away on his travels! Afghanistan, so I heard. So, I thought it would be quiet around here - but it hasn't been.

There's been one person after another 'knock, knock, knocking' on this door. And this ain't 'Heaven', so tell that to Mr Dylan!

So, why were the people knocking at this particular door, do I hear you ask? Well, it's because of some man, I had never heard of before, called Dilnot. He's produced a report about care of the elderly. It's caused a right old rumpus here, I can tell you.

Remember that chap called Lansley, the one nick-named 'silver fox'? Always thought that was an insult to the silver foxes, personally. However, this Lansley chap was a bit concerned about the fuss surrounding elderly care. He's the Health Secretary, already in a right mess because of his plans for reforming the NHS. These have been totally slammed by anyone with sense and who actually cares for the NHS! Now, along comes Dilnot and talks about caring for old and vulnerable people. 'Oh Boy!' Thinks Lansley -More money!! Can't have that! We ain't got no money!

To be fair to Lansley, he didn't put it the way I just did. He said:

It is very important that an engagement around social care issues embraces not only the questions of what it is desirable additionally to provide to give people greater security but also how those are to be paid for and there are opportunity costs associated with anything which entails additional public expenditure.

Still those fine words are saying exactly the same thing I said. Right or not?

There was a song by Abba: 'Money, money, money'. Remember it, do you? Well, the Coalition theme song should be that. All they worry about is 'money, money, money!' Of course, it's important! I wouldn't get my regular sardines and cream, if there weren't no money! But money ain't everything.

While the Coalition is fixated on costs, they're spending 'loadsa' money on restructuring reports, surveys, PR ventures, losing MOD equipment, hospitality for foreign officials, sending out unreadable missives. While they send out emails urging people to cut costs, they spend more on huge redundancy pay offs!

The one sure way of getting this precious money that they are so keen on - is to raise taxes on people earning over £150,000. That would bring the dosh rolling in. Will they do that? No, they will not. Why? Because it would go down like a lead balloon with Tory Party supporters. Bankers would go bonkers!

Instead - the Coalition say: let's cut the waste collections; cut back on benefits paid to the poor, homeless and disabled; make sure the BBC loses more money so that it can't spread stories the Coalition doesn't like; reduce the armed services! I could go on and on and on! But, I will resisit the urge!

Mr Dilnot, I think you are on a hiding to nowhere! As long as Georgy, from next door, Lansley from health, many, many researchers and PR people, attached to the Coalition, are all working to keep the Government going - you are not going to see your reforms implemented.

What they will do is set up another committee to 'look into' the findings. They will meet, have lunch, talk, have tea, produce lots of paper reports and decide they need more research!

As the 'hot rabbit' - still in New York was heard to say: 'C'est la vie!'

Bye!

Cameron keeping fit in No 10 @ No 10!

Lovely sunny day in London Town! Blue sky, small white clouds; blackbirds singing; roses in full bloom! Then - what is this I see? Is it a football fan lurking along the twisting corridors of Nos 10 and 11 Downing Street? It certainly is not a boy, an ever so slightly flabby man. It is quite clearly a man - yes! It is a man! He is rather pink in the face! This man looks in the mirror, as he jogs passed, and that familiar smile I have come to know so well, flits across his face. It is indeed - Boy David!

He is almost unrecognisable from the blue suited, dapperly dressed PM of PMQ fame. He is in the full strip of the Aston Villa football club! What is more, when he turns round, I see 'No 10 Cameron' emblazoned across the shirt!

At this point, Arturo slinks in. "Did you see that?" He asks. "What do you think of that?" Arturo sat down and waited for a response. I did not respond, I wasn't sure what I could say. It was all rather embarrassing really.

"He's off jogging! Going to keep fit! Can you believe it?" Arturo was incredulous too. "What's more, he's got five - yes five - protection officers with him."

"Are they going to be running, as well?" I asked.

"Yep! That's the general idea. Four men and one woman all dressed up and raring to go!"

"How much is that going to cost?"

"Cost? What do you mean?" Arturo's green eyes looked puzzled.

"They won't come cheap, these keep-fit-running chaps and chapess, will they? Got to have the right gear, as they say. No doubt they've got special walkie-talkie stuff as well!"

"Got to keep him safe, haven't they?" Arturo added loyally. "There are loads of nutters running round the park!"

"You can say that again!" I chortled. "I said, you can say that again!"

Ignoring my sarcasm, Arturo asked: "Coming for a nap in the rose garden?"

"You bet!" I replied.

So, it's 'Bye' from Arturo:

And it's 'Bye' from me:

Gold-plated pensions @No 10

About a week ago, I caught sight of an article about the Weasel Man - not that that was what they called him. In the newspaper, he was just referred to as Francis Maude. I did a bit of research into this man who claims to be a veritable guru on pensions. He is Tory MP for Horsham. He is also Minister for the Cabinet Office and Paymaster General. Wow! That really sounds impressive 'Paymaster General'. What does the Paymaster General do, I wondered? In addition, this Weasel Man of many parts leads on:

Public Sector Efficiency and Reform
Office of Government Commerce
UK Statistics
Civil Service issues
Government transparency
Civil Contingencies
Cyber security
Overall responsibility for Cabinet Office policy and the Department

Not bad, eh?

So, you would expect such an impressive man to know his stuff, wouldn't you? A man who would always have the facts at his fingertips and to be fair and just. You see, in addition to having such weighty political roles, our Francis Maude has been a lawyer at the criminal bar!!!!

I urge you to listen to the Today Programme interview on Radio 4 on 30 June 2011! Evan Davis' questioning exposed the lack of facts behind Francis Maude's assertions. Even Mark Serwotka seemed surprised! Francis Maude was not the man his CV would lead you to assume him to be!

However, people do not always behave in the way you would expect - Oh No! And Weasel Man, Francis Maude, is one such man. He is utterly determined to stop the 'perks' of civil servants! He has pledged to end the 'archaic' Whitehall job terms. What angers him is the fact that a sick civil servant gets six months on full-pay and six months on half-pay. It has driven him to near frenzy! He thinks it unfair and wrong. The fact is, very few civil servants get a halfway decent salary anyway! But, he claims that it costs the country £300m a year.

He did not discuss the fact that for just 15 years' work a particular group of civil servants could build up a pension of £24,000. In fact, Francis Maude is himself a member of this group of workers. Yes! He is a full card carrying Member of Parliament! In addition, he was not averse to claiming full MP's expenses on accommodation in London - when he already owns a London house! So - who's a gold-plated fellow, then?

Strange, isn't it, that this man jeers and sneers at union leaders fighting for the rights of their members. He calls Bob Crow, leader of the RMT rail union, ‘very much old-style’. He isn't sure how to handle Mark Serwotka, Leader of the PCS Union, saying he is disappointed with his ‘avowed political agenda’ - namely strike action.

The battle lines have been drawn: Fighting Weasel Man, Francis Maude, in the Blue corner with the public sector fighters being painted Red in the opposing corner.

I'm not sure who won Round 1. I guess Round 2 will be on us soon enough! You, the public, are the Referee. As a mere cat, I just watch through the ropes and sit firmly on my tail.

'Bye'