The reshuffle, it seems, is pencilled in for Monday, although if last year is anything to go by that could change at least three times before then. David Cameron is a reluctant reshuffler and hates the experience. He also conducts them very differently to other party leaders. I am reliably informed that the Chief Whip plays very little role in who goes where and it’s all done by Number 10. Well that should give us all confidence then… Not. Actually, I am not against that. Under Margaret Thatcher the whips had far too much influence over junior ministerial appointments and as a consequence when it came to it she didn’t have enough supporters in the junior ranks or indeed Cabinet when she needed them. When I say the reshuffle is conducted in Number 10, that is only true up to a point because in previous reshuffles it is Number 11 where many of the decisions are made. Watch out for the Osborne stamp on this particular reshuffle. I suspect it will be even more obvious than usual.
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Talking of George Osborne, I am spending much of the day with him today down in the west country where he’s on a regional tour. He will then be coming on my LBC show for an in-depth interview at 5pm. He is one of only two cabinet ministers I have never interviewed – William Hague being the other. I’ve never understood why William Hague never seems to be interested in being heard on Britain’s biggest commercial radio group, when he will appear on Sky News at the drop of a hat. Labour politicians understand that if you appear on LBC, and you say something interesting, you then get clipped into the news bulletins on other Global Radio owned stations like Capital, Heart, Classic FM and Smooth. That’s a potential audience of 23 million and they’re all normal voters. What a shame the Foreign Secretary and his media advisers don’t seem to get that. I’m sure spending hours in the company of Angelina Jolie will attract more voters.
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I am having some very bizarre dreams at the moment. On Tuesday night I dreamt that Bill Cash had introduced a bill into the House of Commons to make Ann Widdecombe a princess. Make of that what you will.
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Like anyone else who watched the match, I was astonished by what happened when Germany walloped Brazil. Not by the score but by the pure crassness of the BBC commentator. On two occasions he told us the German supporters were singing ‘Deutschland Uber Alles”. Er, no they weren’t, because it’s banned in Germany as a cursory bit of research would have demonstrated. If you sing it you get arrested, simple as that. What they were singing was the new German national anthem, which is sung to the same tune but is called ‘Eingkeit und Recht und Freiheit” (Unity, Justice & Freedom). It’s the third verse of what is known as the Deutschlandlied. I do love to educate you, dear reader. Bitteschoen.
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On Tuesday I reach the grand old age of 52. It’s a sobering thought that I’ll probably only ever see four or five more World Cups before I die. I’m cheerful like that.
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One of the reasons I love doing Sky News paper reviews with Jacqui Smith is because we always have a reet laff. And this Wednesday was no exception. It was a bit different this week as the World Cup semi-final penalty shoot-out was happening while we were on air. So we persuaded them to put one of the studio TVs onto ITV so we could multitask and watch it while we were imparting our words of wisdom on air. I wonder if anyone noticed that we were slightly distracted. Probably not in Jacqui’s case. As she pointed out, she’s a woman so multitasking comes naturally. The biggest laugh of the evening came when the floor manager checked her microphone battery pack. “You do tend to drain a battery,” he said. We both roared, as I imagined Jacqui’s rampant rabbit nodding in agreement. Possibly best if you put that vision out of your mind right now, if you don’t mind.
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I read that a 17 year old boy in America, who sent his 15 year old girlfriend a picture of his erect penis on his phone, is being accused of making child porn. Of himself. And the police are trying to make him get an erection so they can check the picture was actually of his own penis. The world has gone utterly mad.
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Alistair Griffin’s got a new album out called FROM NOWHERE. It is pure brilliance. Promise you’ll love it if you download it.
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I’m writing a book at the moment called THE NHS: THINGS THAT NEED TO BE SAID. I fully expect it to get terrible reviews as it against our national religion to make any criticism of the NHS, no matter how mild, or how justified. I’m already battening down the hatches.
