Marmite

The New Year seems to have got off to a catholic start. I was going to say ‘eclectic start’ but the word ‘catholic’, which is a synonym of ‘eclectic’, has a less inclusive feel to it. I like that. 

I saw a wonderful cartoon in my Facebook feed this morning that, with a bit of tweaking, perfectly illustrates The Guardian, or at least those who swallow it without chewing, and wash it down with a dollop of Private Eye and a squirt of Byline Times .

A quick scan of Saturday’s Times to find a topic to blog about opened the floodgates, and by that I don’t mean the combined sewer overflows, although I touch on those later. Starting off with a doozie,  "Roxy Music model fights to stay after 73 years in UK" . An ex-model, married to someone related to someone famous, didn’t get her act together and is now threatened with deportation from Blighty. She didn’t get her act together and Brexit is blamed. I woke up in agony this morning with cramp in my calf – curse Brexit for that as well, eh? I admit that deportation for an accidental lapse of paperwork, by a seemingly harmless, law-abiding, if tedious, individual who’s lived here legally and peaceably most of her life, is a tad harsh, especially when the authorities turn a blind eye to others who intentionally ditch their paperwork so they can land here illegally. That’s not the fault of Brexit but of shoddy implementation and oversight by Mandarins pre-occupied with their rejo...