‘Does Mr. Rees-Mogg see a dagger before him? If not, can we send him to Specsavers?’

Goodness! That young Mr. Rees-Mogg has a catchy turn of phrase, doesn’t he? Comparing Chancellor Hammond-Organ to ‘a dog returning to its vomit’ is a simile no dachshund would welcome. This is all because the Chancellor of the Exchequer published an anti-Brexit letter warning of ‘large fiscal consequences’ if Great Britain left the Holy Zollverein without ‘a deal’ (she means the United Kingdom [Ed.]). Well, it seems to me there are ‘large fiscal consequences’ of remaining within the asylum, not to mention the ‘large fiscal consequences’ of Mrs. Dismay giving away the family silver in her never-ending efforts to appease the Gauleiters of Brussels.

So, how do we solve a problem like Sharieeza?

Look to the Bard, of course! Inspiration is there if one but turns the pages – have a fling with the First Folio! There are thousands of amateur dramatical societies up and down the land full of thespians eager if not desperate to play Brutus or Lady Macbeth – I know Mr. Slope treads the boards from time to time, usually during the pantomime seasons when cross-dressing is verging on the respectable. Does Mr. Rees-Mogg see a dagger before him? If not, can we send him to Specsavers? Must we really wait for the Ides of March to come round before someone takes a stab at it? Can Boris ensure we don’t suffer a Winter of Discontent whilst this dithering duplicitous Desderemaina pimps us out to The Hun? Of course, I speak metaphorically, for a bishop’s wife would never lobby for a bloodfest (halal or otherwise), though I believe the Archdeacon could be persuaded.

I joined the Archdeacon and his wife for luncheon at Barchester’s ‘Jamie’s Old English Restaurant’, a new and popular eatery that everybody is talking about.

“What is ‘jerk’ rice,” I asked.

“Hah!” exclaimed the Archdeacon, “Well, some would call it ‘cultural appropriation’!”

“Better stick to the boiled beef and carrots,” said Mrs. Grantley, soothingly.

It appears that two Corbynovites, a Ms. Dawn Butler and a Mr. Clive Lewis, attacked the cheeky cockney restaurateur on such grounds, accusing him and other ‘white people’ of profiting from ‘black culture’.

“Have you ever heard anything so cock-eyed and sanctimonious in your life?” asked the Archdeacon. “If these two safe-space no-platform-for-racists numbskulls were seriously against cultural appropriation they would not wear European-style clothes, use modern technology or indeed speak English for that matter. Surely they should dress from their own culture, and eschew European -style housing? Bah! Humbug! Is this nonsense what we pay MPs to do with their time?”

I suppose if they are busy putting ‘white people’ down and denigrating the country they choose to live in, they are not voting in more hate-speech and equality legislation, and that must be a blessing. Of course, if Mr. Oliver abused drugs at an early age, skipped school, committed violent gang crimes, got multiple women pregnant and hopped in and out of jail all the time, their criticism of him would be valid.

“I believe Ms. Butler once appeared wearing a sari, which just goes to show,” said Mrs. Grantley quietly.

“Goes to show what, my dear?” I asked.

“One rule for them, one rule for the rest of us.”

How true.

When I heard about the dreadful disembowelling of a young man in London I immediately thought that Jack the Ripper was abroad again! Oh, the horror of those Whitechapel murders and the grizzly details spread across the front page of every newspaper! However, I was wrong. The poor lad was attacked by one of those street gangs, the feral youth who infest Citizen Khan’s fiefdom. As for that Cressida Dyke – for whom ‘having a Brazilian’ meant something completely different – she is to policing what Rembrandt was to brick laying. London is in a mess, and the authorities are giving up. Plenty of time for beat-averse constables to police ‘hate-crime’ from the comfort of their offices, but none for hands-on robbery, break-ins or assaults.

I see The Jupiter reports that President Trumpelstiltskin, despite his stormy personal and political problems at home, has turned his attention to the white farmers of South Africa, who seem to be in rather a spot of bother. The government there is busy carrying off the while man’s burden, along with his farm, his assets, his vehicle and anything else they fancy, which I suppose is another form of ‘cultural appropriation’. Of course, the Left are howling in protest (do they do anything else?), for their sympathy for the underdog is strictly colour-coded. Sadly, our very own Tereason Dismay has signalled her approval of the land-grabbing – she’s very anti-kulak it seems – which should worry Middle England to death but surprisingly doesn’t.

A short missive this week dear friends. Do feel free to comment on those issues of the day which concern you…

And so, as the Pied Piper of Corbyn leads his entranced acolytes into the murky waters of antisemitism, and the worn-out shire horse of Conservatism trots into the glue factory of Tory progressivism, I bid you adieu for yet another week.