Rod Liddle

I have been wondering these last few weeks whether it would be cheaper to excavate a basement and buy a Geiger counter and iodine tablets, or emigrate to New Zealand. Call me frit, but I don’t like the way things are heading. Probably the second option is easier: Armageddon outta here, etc. I can re-enact Nevil Shute’s On the Beach from some rocky cove near Dunedin, waiting for the fallout to arrive. I was sentient only during the latter stages of the Cold War but from what I can remember, the two sides, them and us, behaved for the most part with a degree of rationality and common sense. (I like my politicians to be pragmatic rather than charismatic, which is why, if you were to ask who my favourite Soviet despot was, Brezhnev would always be the answer.

Congratulations to Shami – sorry Baroness! – Chakrabarti for joining the exciting, ever-growing pantheon of ultra-left wing metropolitan Labour hypocrites. Her dameship was appearing on the Godawful Peston on Sunday show. Asked why she opposed selection and grammar schools while at the same time sending her brat to the selective, £18,000 per year, Dulwich College, she said: 'I live in a nice big house, and eat nice food, and my neighbours are homeless, and go to food banks. Des that make me a hypocrite, or does it make me someone who is trying to do best, not just for my own family, but for other people's families too?' Yes, of course it makes you a hypocrite, you hypocrite. And your comparison is absurd.

Hallelujah, everybody. The Archbishop of Canterbury has been pontificating again. Justin Welby says we must try to understand radical Islam a little better. He explained last week, with great patience, that the jihadis think they’re in an end-time war against Christians and Jews, so killing them is exactly what they expect to happen. It sort of proves them right and makes them happy, he argued. Well, thank you for that, Justin. And now we’ve understood this crucial point, what approach should we take to them henceforth? Invite them round for a fondu party and a game of Twister? Justin doesn’t say. It does rather seem to me that if killing them makes them happy, and it certainly makes me happy, we’re in a sort of win-win situation. What’s not to like?

A year ago there was a confirmed sighting, and even film, of a wild wolf in the Netherlands for the first time in perhaps 150 years. It was hanging out near a farm, a few kilometres from the German border in the north-east of the country, looking bored. A couple of years previously a dead wolf was found 40 miles to the west, well inside the Netherlands, but the locals thought it was probably a hoax. Almost certainly it wasn’t. Wolves are doing well in western Europe — there have been plenty of sightings in neighbouring Belgium, for example. France, Italy, Switzerland, Portugal, Spain and Germany have reasonably healthy populations and there are a few score in Scandinavia, too. Mostly they are isolated packs, though, some of them the consequence of reintroductions (i.e.

I was awoken late on Monday night by a horrible nightmare, one of those dreams where you cannot be entirely sure if you are asleep or not. I dreamed I was lying exactly where I was, in my bed, and this torpedo-shaped, phantasmagorical thing was zipping about around the bedroom, diving behind the wardrobe, reappearing and hovering for a moment by the window, and then shooting off towards the landing. Then it would dive at great velocity towards where I was lying, before suddenly veering off. What was this chimeric object? I realised immediately, with a chilling clarity — it was Brooks Newmark’s penis, jubilantly detached from the rest of Brooks Newmark.

A lecturer at a reasonably well-respected northern plate-glass university was somewhat perplexed by a student who complained about her poor marks for an essay. She had a statement of Special Educational Needs. She insisted that this had not been taken into account in the marking of her paper. My acquaintance was hauled before the university authorities to explain why he had marked her so low. ‘Because it was awful work, the work of a cretin,’ he replied. Ah, perhaps, they told him. But you haven’t taken into account the fact that she has Special Educational Needs. That’s why the paper was awful. So you need to allow for that fact and mark it as if it had been better.

It was impossible not to feel rather sorry for the radical Muslim ‘cleric’ Anjem Choudary and his imbecilic henchman Mohammed Rahman as they were each sentenced to five and a half years in prison by a British court. ‘Allahu Akbar!’ his supporters chanted as the sentence was delivered, an invigorating, all-purpose phrase used during decapitations, bombings or just as one is walking down the street. I have taken to using it as well recently, most especially at a critical juncture when I am pleasuring my wife. I think she appreciates it, although I would not be so ungentlemanly as to wake her up and ascertain for sure. Mr Choudary and his pet halfwit have received their sentences largely, I think, for wishing the complete destruction of western civilisation.

Here’s a thing. Shortly after my column for this week’s magazine appeared online, Black Lives Matter UK put out the following tweet: https://twitter.com/ukblm/status/771000305639165953 Rather than answer this sliver of delusional idiocy myself, I’ll leave it to Ken Marsh, chairman of the Police Federation: ‘Last year we had an officer stabbed. This year colleagues were assaulted, abused and spat at. How can that be right? It's completely and utterly unacceptable. ‘The Glastonbury music festival had 40 arrests this year. Notting Hill had 10 times that amount. 'Year after year there are such high levels of violence against police officers and the public at the carnival. And yet year after year nothing changes. Something needs to be done.' Thank you, Ken.

An almost worldwide survey on penis length — the sort of thing I always read with a sense of trepidation and inadequacy — suggested that the countries boasting the largest of these flawed and devious appendages are all located in Africa. Especially West Africa, from the DRC down to the humid and still pristine jungles of Gabon. This suggests to me one of two things — either that the old racist cliché is absolutely true, or that Africans tell bigger lies than anyone else on the planet. Either or both of these explanations are likely to get me into trouble, so I suppose I’d better stop digging. Thing is, I can’t fathom another answer.

An almost worldwide survey on penis length — the sort of thing I always read with a sense of trepidation and inadequacy — suggested that the countries boasting the largest of these flawed and devious appendages are all located in Africa. Especially West Africa, from the DRC down to the humid and still pristine jungles of Gabon. This suggests to me one of two things — either that the old racist cliché is absolutely true, or that Africans tell bigger lies than anyone else on the planet. Either or both of these explanations are likely to get me into trouble, so I suppose I’d better stop digging. Thing is, I can’t fathom another answer.