Philip Schofield and the protection of powerful paedophiles
Yesterday, when Phillip Schofield showed the Prime Minister a note containing the names of alleged politician paeodophiles who have been named on Twitter, little did he realise what he’d set in motion.
Phillip Schofield handing David Cameron a list of names of alleged politician paedophiles on ITV1’s “This Morning”
Amongst the names was that of Lord McAlpine who also appears on the website of the former BBC sports presenter David Icke along with a former MP who is now a television presenter and a number of others. The same site contains references to an MP who died in a house fire in Hampshire in 2000 and all manner of other suggestions.
Steve Messham, the victim who appeared on Newsnight to state that he’d been sexually abused in a Welsh children’s home by a “prominent Conservative” last week, has now come forward to state that McAlpine was not his attacker. Separately, the peer has given a detailed rebuttal and threatened to sue those who have accused him.
We all know that David Icke is a bit of a wildcard and that his views about aliens are just ludicrous but one has to think of smoke and fire. If even one of those Icke accuses is guilty, any investigation would be worthwhile. Whoever they may be, powerful paedophiles should not be protected and equally, however wild their views, those with relevant information should not be censored.
We’re all Saviled out. It’s been more than eight weeks since revelations about Jimmy, formerly Sir Jimmy, Savile came to public attention. Yes, the horrors of his “activities” have appalled us all but frankly why do the media really keep this story running as a main news item?
It does what it says on the tin
We’ve been as much a part of this monstrous escapade as anyone else: our editor went on the BBC to talk about the scandal and we’ve even received messages of support from Savile’s twisted “friends.” We beat the Daily Mail in being the first to report on the sale of the paedophile’s flat in Leeds and spotted Sir George Young removing a photo of him and Savile from his website before any other. We admit it: our readers plainly are as intrigued by this story as much as we were curious enough to report on it.
It suited our Prime Minister very nicely to wheel out Theresa May yesterday to announce an inquiry into the activities of another supposed child molester who just happened to be a member of Margaret Thatcher’s government. “Why so?” we hear you justifiably ask. Well, just like the spinner Jo Moore “burying bad news” on 9/11, the US elections were the perfect opportunity to dispense of the activities of a certain magnate beneath the Tarmac®. Somehow, though, and as much as she tried to smooth things over, we don’t think May’s attempts at concreting over this particular highway will set satisfactorily.
Yesterday, I found myself listening to a self-proclaimed “writer, broadcaster and entertainer” named Pam Ayres on BBC Radio 4.
Pam Ayres
An example of her style numbers:
“I am sittin’ on the sofa. By the fire and stayin’ in. Me head is free of comfort. And me nose is free of skin. Me friends have run for cover, They have left me pale and sick. With me pockets full of tissues. And me nostrils full of Vick.”
I recall having first encountered the supposed “humour “of Ms Ayres, whom the Daily Telegraph once described as “the doyenne of doggerel,” at a dinner hosted by The Lady Taverners at The Savoy some years ago. As Ayres droned on, an American lady at my table tapped me on the shoulder and said: “What the hell is this strange woman on about?” Having never heard of this “poet,” I shrugged and simply responded: “I haven’t got a clue.” When, in desperation, it was suggested we vacate to the bar, I embraced the idea with gusto. Sat there with an extremely strong martini, I felt well again.
That, I assumed, would be the last my poor ears heard from Ayres but sadly it was not to be. Radio 4, which I listen to throughout the day, have chosen to give her airtime and yesterday, when she came on, the first comment from my friend Charles was: “Oh God, not her, she terrified me even when I was a kid.” The unwelcome ghostly voice of an evening past had returned to my life.
Having had my fill, I thought I’d share my thoughts with my Twitter followers and posted the following:
“I have to say @PamAyres is quite possibly the most tedious person on @BBCRadio4. Her attempt at “humour” is cringeworthy and annoying.”
Within minutes, I’d been bombarded with hatemail from furious fans of Ayres. Most curiously amongst them were missives from the former game show panelist Annabel Giles (@Annabel_Giles) and “Britain’s premiere [sic] Nazi hunter” Alan Stoob (@nazihunteralan). Plainly Ayres is “much loved” in all manner of circles.
Later, a poem came from the woman herself. It reads as follows:
This geezer Matthew Steeples (May he rot in K & C)
Has posted on his twitterfeed a photograph of me
And with my blameless heifers he has held us up to shame,
I may heal in time. The cows will NEVER be the same.
“Blummin’ ‘ell:” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Never could I have imagined that I’d find myself immortalised in a poem by Pam Ayres.
Learn more about Pam Ayres at: http://www.pamayres.com or follow her on Twitter:http://www.twitter.com/ayrespamShe might even pen a verse in your honour if you’re, erm, lucky.
Matthew Steeples reacts to the BBC quietly dropping the “Sir”
This morning when I turned on Radio 4’s Today programme, as has become customary in the last weeks, the first item on the news was about a man who will forever be associated with abuse and paedophilia, Jimmy Savile.
In recent days, as more and more allegations have surfaced against the Jim’ll Fix It presenter, politicians like David Cameron have looked to make hay by calling for Savile to posthumously lose his knighthood. They talk twaddle as such a title cannot be taken from you once you are dead as that very title actually dies with you. To actually “remove” the title would involve a costly change in the law and frankly, as disgusting as this pervert now appears to have plainly been, is it really worth the expense and parliamentary time during these times of austerity?
Plain old Jimmy Savile
When Jeffrey Archer was jailed, calls were made to strip him of his seat in the Lords. In, my humble opinion, rightly, nothing was done. Since leaving prison, Lord Archer has righted his wrongs by doing much good. Archer’s situation and crimes, I admit, were different to those of Savile but his and that of Lord Lucan should be a guide.
If Jimmy Savile were to lose his title now, should the hereditary title of Lord Lucan also be removed? Should his son lose a title because, even though never convicted, his presumed deceased father stands accused of the murder of his children’s nanny? This area of law could indeed become very complex and frankly the exploration of it is pointless.
The Today programme, however, have found a far simpler and cheaper solution. This morning, they did what we should all do. They now simply refer to this revolting individual as plain old “Jimmy Savile.” Let’s all follow this lead, drop the “Sir” and leave it at that.
All of us who drive have made stupid mistakes but most of us, at worst, have knocked over a gatepost or pranged a door in a supermarket car park.
Our picture of the week: Tony and Barrie Drewitt-Barlow on the roof of their Range Rover
A couple named Barrie and Tony Drewitt-Barlow, however, take the biscuit. This idiotic pair of millionaires, who are best known for having had five children by a surrogate and for having run a business into liquidation, somehow thought they could drive through a flooded ford in their Range Rover Sport in the early hours of the morning without incident.
The pair, who’d spent the day filming at a most naff sounding event named Essex Fashion Week with the “stars” of The Only Way is Essex, claimed that their vehicle spun around three times before starting to fill up with water. Barrie Drewitt-Barlow told the Mail Online:
“It went dark. We had to climb out of the window. I thought I was going to die.”
Plainly terrified of getting his “tuxedo” wet, Tony Drewitt-Barlow called the emergency services from the roof and supposedly, with the help of a police helicopter, an inflatable boat and fifteen firefighters, the couple were rescued an hour later.
A boat rescues the pair from the roof of their Range Rover SportThe car remained in the water on the following dayTony and Barrie Drewitt-Barlow pictured outside Southwark Crown Court last year
Now, instead of issuing an apology for the havoc their recklessness caused, the Drewitt-Barlows’ are bleating:
“Tony is suffering from shock and hypothermia at the moment from having over an hour on the roof,” stated Barrie Drewitt-Barlow before he added:
“We went back yesterday to rescue some personal belongings from the boot, a couple of photo albums, clothes, and my laptop, but they had all been stolen. My laptop had all of our photos on. We have put a £5,000 reward up for the return of the photos and laptop.”
Maybe their possessions floated away. They must have left the windows open when they exited the vehicle and if the car really did fill with water, the computer and photo albums would be ruined anyway. Either way, whether stolen or not, the lack of gratitude of this couple showed towards their rescuers makes them utterly contemptible. After all, how much did this ridiculous episode cost?
One comment left on the Mail Online described the Drewitt-Barlow’s as a pair of “pillocks in a puddle.” We agree and simply had to make the image of this ludicrous couple’s foolishness The Steeple Times picture of the week.
Matthew Steeples shares his somewhat mixed thoughts on the allegations against Sir Jimmy Savile
When Sir Jimmy Savile’s 2002 Rolls-Royce Corniche went to auction in July with a guide price of £60,000 to £90,000, he seemed destined to be remembered as a man who would continue to do as much good in death as he appeared to have done in life. Savile (1926 – 2011) had arranged that all proceeds of the auction would go to charity and in the end the car fetched £130,000.
By September 2012, however, everything had changed. Savile, a man who had raised an estimated £40,000,000 for charity during his lifetime, now stands accused of allegations of sexual assault against numerous women and at least one male following an ITV1 documentary, Exposure: The Other Side of Jimmy Savile.
Sir Jimmy Savile OBE, KCSG outside the highland retreat at Allt na Reigh, Glencoe, Ballachulish, Scotland, PH49 4HX where he entertained amongst HRH The Prince of Wales and TV presenter Louis TherouxSir Jimmy Savile’s humour and approach to life was considered “saucy” and “Carry On-esque” during his lifetime. Now, many appear to regret allowing his behaviour to go unnoticed.
When I first heard these allegations, I was somewhat perturbed. My initial thought was: “Is it right that these allegations surface when the alleged perpetrator is not here to defend himself?” Yes, Savile and many other stars of his generation and ilk appeared eccentric and perhaps even a little sinister, but that does not mean that they were or are necessarily paedophiles and rapists. In the days that followed, I found myself questioning the motivations of those who had waited until this supposedly affable star was dead before they opted to blacken his name. The fact that many of these “victims” remain hidden behind masks of anonymity, equally, is somewhat questionable especially when their alleged abuser is not here to “threaten” them any longer either.
Having since watched the documentary, presented by former police detective Mark Williams-Thomas, and subsequently heard an incredibly creepy recording released by the BBC of Savile with a 14-year old girl, my mind changed somewhat and I now find myself appalled that this individual was allowed to get away with his perverted ways for so long.
Even in his lifetime, the bachelor Savile made some pretty sordid comments about his sex life and attitude towards women. A passage from his 1974 autobiography, As it Happens, gives an example:
“There have been trains and, with apologies to the hit parade, boats and planes (I am a member of the 40,000 foot club) and bushes and fields, corridors, doorways, floors, chairs, slag heaps, desks and probably everything except the celebrated chandelier and ironing board.”
It is also true that Savile was investigated and interviewed under caution over allegations of indecent assault in the 1970s by British police in 2007 and that the States of Jersey police had similarly looked into another assault in 2008. Neither resulted in any charges being brought but now that many of his former colleagues have come forward to state that knowledge of the Jim’ll Fix It star’s predatory ways were “well known,” one has to ask why no one shouted louder back then. After all, many of these people were in positions of power equal and in some cases senior to Savile.
Rather like with Leveson, though, the present calls for an investigation into the activities of Jimmy Savile come too late and are in my view pointless. Such an inquiry would certainly give the camera loving blabbermouths their day in court but it will not bring any closure for those who were allegedly abused. Their alleged abuser will never be punished for what he allegedly did and the only people to benefit will be the lawyers. Column inches will indeed also be filled but what else would be achieved?
Savile is buried in a coffin inclined at 45 degrees to fulfill his wish to “see the sea” at Woodlands Cemetery in Scarborough, Yorkshire. It has recently been encased in concrete “as a security measure” and given that a memorial plaque on his former home had to be removed after being defaced with graffiti, this is probably wise.
Whether Jimmy Savile is innocent or guilty of the abuses that he has been accused, his name now is forever tarnished. That now will be this strange man’s only legacy.
“Ladette”: A word and culture that should be consigned to history
Last week, in a BBC Radio 4 broadcast, the former Radio 1 DJ Sara Cox complained about the word “ladette.” Barely able even to utter this irksome description, “Coxy” described how, during her tenure as the presenter of The Radio 1 Breakfast Show, this became the culture of the day.
The term “ladette” first came into being in the 1990s but didn’t enter the dictionary until 2001. In it’s simplest form, it is said to refer to: “A young woman whose social behaviour is similar to that of male adolescents,” but in reality it sums up a much nastier type of creature.
A drunken ladette on a bench
Led by the likes of Billie Piper, Charlotte Church and Cat Deeley, these noisy women swilled beer, swore and vomited wildly whilst watching football. They assaulted one another and anyone else who got in their paths in nightclubs and bars and generally caused havoc wherever they went. All in all they, like the “chavs” many now talk of, were a menace to society.
Actress Joan Collins, like Cox, rightly had little time for the ladettes of Great Britain:
“I don’t understand the fascination of getting as drunk as possible and having as many partners as possible… Is this what the suffragettes worked for? What real, decent man is going to want to marry a girl like that?”
A television show named Ladette to a Lady attempted to stem the activities of this group of horrors but it seems to have achieved little. The ladette is most definitely not dead. When I visited a large Tesco store in Devon a couple of days ago, I was unfortunate enough to see plenty of women of this type stocking up on WKD and Hooch. It was not a pleasant sight especially as many were pushing prams full of mini-me’s.
The talk of the moment might be of Andrew Mitchell MP calling a policeman a “pleb” but frankly, this nation really ought to get Roman and end the era of the common ladette.
George W. Bush is a man who most of our readership no doubt loathe. Most people know that I take an utterly different view and like the historian Andrew Roberts believe that history will remember him and Tony Blair far more favourably.
George W. does Dr. Evil
Our video of the week, discovered on the Facebook page of Gavriel Merkado, is illustrative of George W.’s humour. I hope it will make you laugh.
To watch the video, click here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8hmz6DVpz0s&feature=player_embedded
This morning, as I walked through the streets of Chelsea, I heard a lady blabbering into her mobile telephone about how she’d had a “chit-chat” with her friend. I cringed. I don’t know why, but I do truly hate this phrase.
To “chit-chat” or “not to chit-chat”: that is the question
My first encounter with “chit-chat” was in the early 2000s when I knew a certain rival of the especially lowbrow glamour model Jordan (AKA Katie Price). This individual, since married off to an equally esteemed chap from Essex, used to call me and say: “ ‘Allo, I’m just giving ya a tinkle-tankle for a bit of a chit-chat.” Her words stuck in my mind and now every time I hear those words, I sadly think of her.
A Google search on the origins of “chit-chat” produces two separate citations from 1710. The first comes in Samuel Palmer’s Moral essays on some of the most curious English, Scotch, and foreign proverbs:
“ ‘Tis the custom of foolish people … in their chit chat to be always biting people’s reputation behind their back.”
A second mention comes in a piece by Sir Richard Steele in edition 197 of The Tatler:
“If Ralph had Learning added to the common Chit-Chat of the Town.”
Is this a phrase to embrace or one that should be consigned to the dustbin of history? I think you know my view.
“Lounge,” to my mind is a word that conjures laziness. “Lounging around” is something one did as a teenager and in the process annoyed one’s parents and school teachers.
An airport lounge
“Lounge” is a word that is often misused in other contexts. When I think of a “lounge,” I link it to either an airport or railway station. It is somewhere to sit whilst waiting for something else to occur. It is a place to wait for a plane or train but more frequently one finds it being used, especially by estate agents, to describe the main entertaining room in a house. In my view, a better description of such a space might be, in a casual context, a “sitting” or “living” room or, more formally, a “drawing room.”
Let’s stop “lounging around” and learn to use the English language properly.
