Political Heavyweights

Andrew Rawnsley, an Observer journalist, is staunchly standing by his allegations that Gordon Brown has a particularly volatile side. In his book The End of the Party, he claims that upon hearing the news that confidential data had gone missing, Brown leapt across the room to grab Gavin Kelly, his deputy chief of staff, by the lapels and screamed “They’re out to get me!” In another incident, Brown punches the back of a car seat. In my personal favourite, he hounds a secretary for not typing fast enough. Despite the fact that Rawnsley is vehemently defending his sources, Jacqui Smith is having none of it, although she did admit that Brown can be “glowering” in a Radio 4 interview this morning. On ‘The Andrew Marr Show’, Peter Mandelson agreed that he is “impatient” and “gets angry”, which hardly exonerates his boss, although the Labour camp are proving quick to deny any kind of violent streak.

But I quite like the thought of Brown as some sort of Rutles-esque Ron Decline figure, storming around the office while terrified co-workers leap out of the nearest windows. Brown hardly radiates a sunny disposition, so its not too hard to believe that he’s a very “serious man”, but bounding across a room to rough up his colleagues? If there is one thing that Brown doesn’t do and that’s ‘bounding’. Of course if the polls are true and Brown is exiting Downing Street within the next few months, dare we propose a sideline as part of a WWE tag team alongside John Prescott? After all, we’ve all seen what he’s made of.


I’ve been reading about tigers, who are as equally cute and loveable as they are lethal. There’s something quite comforting about that. Yet they can’t compete with a team of heavily armed poachers, who hunt wild tigers for their value on the black market, where everything from the animal’s bones, skin and penis are sought after by eastern herbalists who believe that the animal can cure many human dysfunctions. The nose is used in treatments for epilepsy, the penis is used in soups as an aphrodisiac, and the meat is even sold to restaurants who specialise in ‘wild’ dishes. Although outlawed by official Chinese medics, you can still find the bones of tigers in Chinese markets, which are ground up and used to treat rheumatism.

WildAid have just secured the marketing rights of Jackie Chan as the face of their new awareness campaign, which is logical given the fact that the Chinese are currently celebrating the Year of the Tiger, although Chan’s philanthropy couldn’t quite save Woolsworths, so lets hope he does better with this one. Especially as I’ve just read an incredibly conflicting story that the Chinese are still considering legalising the trade, hoping to supplement the demand for tiger parts from animals bred in captivity. The 1993 ban has allegedly seen tiger numbers in India (the home of many of the world's last remaining wild tigers) dwindle from 3,000 to 1,500 in only ten years. In China, three species of tigers are already registered as extinct, and the gorgeous South China tiger has not been seen for years. As for the Amur tiger - the ones that can grow up to three metres - recent estimations say that there are probably only about 20 of them left.

Which all makes for quite sobering reading, especially given the somewhat senseless requirement for their killing. But at least China are acting on this, even if their conservation methods may only help to adhere them closer to the global community, as many fear that its probably already too late to conceivably save these incredible creatures. Given the motivation for such decreasing numbers, lets contrast this with China’s appalling human rights record, which still sees journalists imprisoned and the death penalty exacted on somewhat dubious grounds. If only they showed as much compassion for their human citizens.


On Tuesday, I interviewed Paul Daniels, who is preparing for a UK variety tour with (among others) The Krankies, Syd Little (from Little & Large) and Christopher Biggins. He doesn’t much care for David Blaine, the US illusionist who, in an attempt to become a modern day Houdini, has hung upside in New York for 60 days, lived in eight feet of water for seven days, and suspended 30 feet over the Thames in a box for 44 days.

Apart from being a colossal waste of time, I should point out that during his exercise in hanging upside down, Blaine was released every hour for a medical check up, a quick stretch and a trip to the loo. As for living underwater, he was taken out of his submerged state when doctors noticed signs of liver failure and skin abnormalities, while his box stunt in London received the sort of dignified response that you would expect to see from the English: he was pelted with eggs, paint, lemons, sausages, and all manner of missiles. At the end of the 44 day fast, he was subsequently hospitalised - an extraordinary length to go to sell a DVD.

But Blaine’s bombastic approach is completely at odds with the sort of magic that Daniels championed in his heyday: anyone who owned a Paul Daniels Magic Set can attest for that. I had one, and subsequently attempted to master the sort of tricks that would really test the patience of even the most devoted of parents. It was pretty crap, to be honest, and certainly wouldn’t contravene any kind of Magic Circle codes of practice. One of the tricks, I distinctly recall, wasn’t so much a trick but a mere test of perception: by simply wobbling a solid wand at its tip, this creates the illusion of it being flexible. You can do it with a pen and it’s not even mildly impressive. The rest of the kit included double sided coins and a neat knot trick. I spent many hours trying to conquer that one. I’d like to see Blaine release an equivalent: no doubt a set of straightjackets and a cyanide chamber. Get out of that one, kids.