Marmite

Stewkley Singers rise to a challenge. We enjoy it. We must do, because we’re still here after 20 years of being stretched to the limit, stamina- and talent-wise, by Our Jen, our delightfully demanding Musical Director.

Unless you’ve been impersonating Rip Van Winkle, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White or Rachel from accounts, you’ll know that Trump is waging war on Iran. This has prompted the usual keffiyeh-wearing klowns to object to a regime getting its komeuppance for torturing and murdering women and gays simply for being women and gays. The klowns’ rationale is that if Netanyahu doesn’t like the Ayatollahs, they must be the good guys even though they murder women and gays for simply being women and gays. Ah, the Hope-not-Hate brigade has been exposed for what they are: Hateful no-Hopers. Meanwhile Greta Thundabunga, the Scandinavian and female (at a stretch) clone of Chris Packham, is bleating about Cuba, thus sending the message that the war with Iran is of little consequence, and there’s no longer a climate crisis. By careering from cause to cause, just like Packham, she’s trying desperately and failing comically to be relevant and to achieve something. Anything.