Sunday, May 15, 2005

my living room is full of frenchmen, and so i bring you this post. i'm feeling very smug because i made my first ever stock from chicken bones today, in the manner of hugh fearnley-whittingstall or a 50s domestic icon.

i read this as part of the revision for our Government exam on Wednesday. It, perhaps more than anything i have ever read, made me question why we entrust something as important as running the country to MPs.

Although this story makes me have new respect for Michael Heseltine, who'd i previously considered a bit of a harmless old codger. Now he is reborn in my mind as somekind of Parliamentary tarzan. I also found out the very interesting fact that David Blunkett's guide dog was allowed to sit under the table during Parliamentary debates. I like to think Tony Blair might have tried to surreptiously feed it bacon so that it would like him more.

And one final one - about what MPs can and can't do in the Commons. No to hats, weapons and hands in pockets, yes to snuff. And especially no dying, if you're a commoner.


Blogger Artegall said...

I never realised (until this weekend) the exact role that Black Rod had to play in parliamentary proceedings. "What did you do as a job Grandpa?"
"Well son, about once a year I'd go to the House of Commons, whereupon they'd slam the door in my face. So I'd hit it with a big stick, and tell them all to come to the House of Lords, because they were sitting in the wrong place. Which they did. Then I'd go back to sleep until it was time to do it again."

5/16/2005 2:04 am  
Blogger galatea said...

I particularly like the fact he has no other name than Black Rod. So people could technically ask, "Is that your black rod, Black Rod?" like that Blackadder the third episode with "your highness, your highness".

That has sent me into a reverie.
"The porpoise?"
"Hasn't arrived yet, sir, we'll have to muddle along as best we can."

Anyway, Parliament is a bit of a farce, you're right.

5/16/2005 8:17 pm  

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