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The highlight of my week was the agony of dismay that greeted the shock news that then Greek Prime Minister George Papandreou was actually going to put the European Union’s bailout to his people.

A referendum? Democracy? Letting people have a vote?

Clearly the Greeks, given the chance, would have said a resounding ‘no’ to the tempting offer of misery and suffering for decades to come. Given that they can watch the “world’s greatest democracy” (as the US believes it still is) blithely ignoring the economic catastrophes for which they are told they have to pay, who could have blamed them?

The paroxysms of horror from the likes of Sarkozy and Berlusconi laid bare the great paradox of democracy: the democrats at the top, the ones who have shares in the banks and were educated at expensive private schools, daren’t trust the democrats at the bottom – you know, the embarrassing ones who’d kick out the foreigners and bring back national service and restore hanging, it’s the only language they understand.

The paradox was visible when the pesky Irish dared vote against Europe until they had it drummed into them that they were jolly well going to have to keep voting in referendums (I know, referenda) until they got it right and returned a ‘yes’.

It’s why our politicians fight shy of a vote on the Euro or even European Union membership and certainly on capital punishment: they’re scared of the result.

I share the fear but hope for better from people.

And I would argue that if we had a press free from vested interest in the status quo, an education system that delivered across the board and for free, and intelligent debate on the radio and TV, people would deliver the votes the un-democrats want them to deliver.

Snow surprises

The BBC devoted an hour on Sunday to asking the vexed question: “Is it going to snow this winter?”

The artfully-haired Kate Humble helped us to understand the rather unsurprising answer:

“Probably.”

This did not change my expectations of the winter to come.

Neither did the man from Morrison’s supermarket, who confidently predicted exactly when and where we could expect blizzards, persuade me to change my view that the man (or woman) from the Met Office is more to be trusted when he (or she) says we can’t know when, where or how much it will snow until quite soon before.

I’ve been enjoying the scarlet of the holly berries for weeks, and lately I’ve been watching Squirry the squirrel frenziedly gathering acorns from the hedgerow of our field. These, Old Futtock’s Country Almanac will tell you, are signs of a harsh winter to come. But this, the BBC, helpfully made clear, reinforcing another of my views, is what scientists call “utter bollocks”.

Which, for a country obsessed with the weather, is actually usually the level of the debate.

Are we living in a mini ice age? Shall we get to work and school this winter? Will it be a white Christmas? Will Brothers Hazzard and Cullingham get it on (as it were) over climate change again? Will they end up swinging bicycle chains at each other in the car park this time?

We don’t know. And that’s fine. Because after the last three miserable winters, however, we shouldn’t need the BBC to tell us to be prepared for the worst. And after the last three miserable winters, we should have learned the lesson that the best thing to do when it snows and freezes is stay indoors rather than clog up the dangerous roads.  Get those two things right, and the question assumes less importance.

The heat is on (part 1)

Well, it all got a bit heated last week, didn’t it?

Roger seems to be suggesting we all avoid paying our taxes and take a 40% pay rise, which would be an interesting economic model, while Brother Stents just will not accept my contention (I wonder why not?) that it’s the unelected and unregulated bankers, businessmen and other pillars of the unfettered free market who have brought us to this pretty pass, and not those Labour politicians he seems to be blaming.

Brother Fiddle, meanwhile, stands up for principle, and as supporting evidence offers us this:

I love the comments and really value everybody’s input (even you, Brother Stents, though I wish more members of the Stents clan with possibly slightly more liberal views would get involved and annoy Roger too). Keep them coming, please.

Audi do that?

Proof, if proof were needed, that this column attracts the best class of reader (though I’m aware that “best class” is fraught with difficulty for an old leftie like me): Richard in Switzerland sent me this from The Guardian with the message: “Worthy of mentioning? I find it funny that we could all be driving top-of-the-range Audis but for a quirk in the succession laws.”

The comment was made in response to the change in the law enabling the succession to the British throne of the first-born child regardless of gender – in the past, of course, boy overtook girl thanks to the crucial intellectual and leadership qualification of having a willy.

The Guardian pointed out that had gender equality been the case 500 years ago, Henry VIII would have been eclipsed by his sister, or (rather than ‘and’, obviously) Queen Victoria would have been followed by her daughter, also Victoria.  The younger Victoria was also the queen of Prussia by marriage, and her son was Kaiser Wilhelm II, who would therefore have gone on to rule over a combined Anglo-German realm.

The consequences for the British are mind-blowing, said the newspaper: “The first and second world wars would never have happened and we would all be driving top-of-the-range Audis and embracing low levels of personal debt.”

Richard found this funny, and so, I see, did the august producers from Have I Got News For You, who followed on a few days later by including it in last week’s show. If I had the energy to update this thing daily, you would have read it here first.

If Richard lets me know what’s going to feature on this week’s HIGNFY, I’ll try and let you know via Twitter.

The heat is on (part 2)

For many years here in Cornwall, you’ve been able to enjoy a better class (there we are again) of boogie thanks to the Gumbo Flyers.

In various incarnations over an incredible two decades, but with Oscar on the rub board to the fore, the Gumbos have been peddling their sweaty zydeco Cajun stomp here and far beyond too – a really great live act. I can tell you that it really does take a very, very lively gig to persuade my funky stuff it needs strutting, but the Gumbos have worked the miracle. Many of you will remember jam-packed nights at the Caradon Inn, or hundreds on the stage at a packed Sterts, the joy of the annual fest in Fowey at the du Maurier Festival, or many more.

Well, you can get a flavour of Gumbo with the Flyers’ new CD, named for that majestic pillar of the Cajun canon Les Flammes d’Enfer – buy online at www.gumboflyers.com, or visit thegumboflyers on Facebook.