Thursday, August 25, 2005


The commonplace is that satire died when Henry Kissenger was given the Nobel Peace Prize.

It would be foolhardy to suggest that it actually died when Liverpool was named as the European City of Culture.

Foolhardy because I can't afford the train fare, and I'm no good at apologising to crowds.

When Boris Johnson was rude about Scousers, he was packed off to Liverpool on a train to apologise. How we laughed. The Religious Policeman, however, has a new twist on how people can be sent on journeys as a punishment for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

The Religious Policeman offers us a glimpse of real satire. It puts Private Eye and the wider British media in perspective. Our little vendettas. Our obsession with apologies. Portadown News had a similar mission - it's passing is a shame. The targets of satire should be assassins, beheaders, and slave-traders. By contrast, our pressure groups refer to Guantanamo Bay as a 'Gulag' and expect to be taken seriously.

(another Blogger spellcheck update: Portadown = Partition. Don't tell Dr Paisley!)

1 comment:

Charles Letterman said...

So Liverpool begins its year of being 'European City of Culture'. It's an easy target for critics, the endless tyre theft jokes and the 'self-pity city' jibes.

But Liverpool asks for it. Their fantastic sense of humour apparently comes from having it tough in the war. Ask Cilla Black or Stan Boardman. No other city experienced hardship during the war.

The arrogance of the people, believing that coming from Liverpool makes them special, is obvious in every interview. They claim to have a community spirit second to none. The same community spirit that created the wall of silence when the police were trying to catch the killer of 11 year old Ryhs Jones last year.

Two more men were shot last night in Liverpool, but I'm sure that the gunman can't be blamed. He obviously did it as a reaction to his terrible wartime experiences.