A Viscount Speaks

The sinister cult of modern art has reached even Oxford

Scholars and Gentlemen,

Little surprises me in this rude age.  I have grown almost inured to the daily tide of filth and depravity that washes over us in this once austere land. 

But when my daughter, Henrietta, informed me that a grotesque statue had been placed opposite her Oxford college then even I, a liberal man, was moved to rage.  For Anthony Gormley - the philistine responsible for that ghastly monstrosity, the Angel of the North - has somehow contrived to convince the authorities of Oxford University to place one of his disgusting works of modern "art" slap bang in the middle of Oxford, on the roof of Exeter College.

Not only is this statue hideous and philistine.  It is also lewd.  The man in the statue is quite naked.  Gormley has left nothing whatever to the imagination.  The young and virginal lady undergraduates of Oxford will thus be forced to avert their eyes every time they wish to stroll down the Broad.

Furthermore, the building adjacent to Exeter College is none other than Wren's exquisite Sheldonian Theatre, the very building in which I received my First Class Degree in Greats.  If God exists - as I know he does - then Anthony Gormley's soul will for ever reside in the burning fires of Hell.  And his chief tormentor will be Wren.

Yours, etc.

Viscount Crouchback

What has got into Boris?

Gentlemen,

I am an admirer of Boris Johnson.  He is precisely the type of chap we need in politics.  There are far too many of these funny little dark-haired Scotchmen running around at Westminster, and not nearly enough flaxen-haired Anglo-Saxons of impeccable breeding and superior education.  (That's not to say that Boris's breeding is wholly satisfactory - his father is rather a rum bird,  but one must be tolerant!)

Yet, I regret to report that Boris has written yet another peculiar column in the Telegraph.  He, quite rightly, acclaims English poetry as the finest in the world (though I confess to being surprised that he can recite only the first one hundred lines of the Iliad. Rather a lame effort, old boy, but then that's Eton for you).

No, what I find remarkable is that Boris thinks poetry should be taught to everyone, i.e. even including those at grammar schools and - I can scarcely bring myself to type this - comprehensive schools!  Imagine!  I should certainly not like to be the tutor expected to teach oiks to understand iambic pentameter!

This is the problem with democratic politics.  Even a well-bred chap like Boris finds himself in the invidious position of being forced to proffer mealy-mouthed platitudes to appease the hysterical mob.  Prince Charles, who has no such need for election, is able to be far more honest about matters:  

"What is wrong with everyone nowadays? Why do they all seem to think they are qualified to do things far beyond their technical capabilities? This is to do with the learning culture in schools as a consequence of child-centred system which admits no failure. People think they can all be pop stars, High Court judges, brilliant TV personalities or infinitely more competent heads of state without ever putting in the necessary work or having natural ability. This is the result of social utopianism which believes humanity can be genetically and socially engineered to contradict the lessons of history."

Quite so, sir.   

Yours, in praise of the wisdom of our glorious heir to the throne,

Viscount Crouchback