Rod Liddle

We were twice transported back to the early 1970s this weekend, our memories snagged on the deaths of Roberta Flack and David Johansen. One of the two was afforded quite a send off by the media, the other wasn’t. I think they got it the wrong way around. Flack, who died aged 88 on 24 February, was a soul/pop crossover artist with a luxurious contralto range and a canny judge of what made a hit record. She had two big solo hits in the UK with “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”, written by Ewan MacColl and “Killing Me Softly With His Song”, a Gimbel/Fox/Lori Lieberman confection written after Lieberman had witnessed a Don McLean concert and, incredibly, seemed to have enjoyed it.

As happens with every issue, the world is now neatly polarised about Mr Trump. There are those who refer to him as a Nazi, a dictator, a fascist, a rapist and could not possibly discern anything beneficial about his regime even if he announced he was both joining Hamas and transitioning. And then there are those who believe his every action is wonderful and those who disagree are cucks, snowflakes, lefty scum. I have been slightly closer to the latter category. But Trump’s posturing over Ukraine – no matter how much you may have agreed with the substance of J. D. Vance’s marvellous speech – is odious, immoral and based upon deceit. Ukraine did not start the war in 2022. Nor could it have stopped it without complete capitulation.

It is always upsetting to watch a woman enmired in distress and so I thought I might ride on my trusty charger to the assistance of Rachel Reeves, the Chancellor, with a few suggestions as to where she might make spending cuts. Rachel needs these cuts because she can’t raise taxes and the British economy is lying flat on its back in an alleyway with wee dribbling down its leg. Growth is what we need, plus some serious savings to the Exchequer. Clearly, most civil servants should be sacked – bringing a bounteous gift to the nation’s coffers My first suggestion would be to cut the rate of benefits by 25 per cent across the board.

People don’t like to use the term ‘vibe shift’, but I suspect it will turn out to be rather more than that. Certainly, I have never known opinion to change so rapidly – almost overnight. I’m talking about Donald Trump, or, more properly, how he is regarded. On Saturday morning, I was presenting my new Times Radio show (10 a.m. to 1 p.m., tune in, tune in, please!) and struggled to find any interviewees who might criticise Donald Trump. In a lengthy debate on World War Three, the wonderful Lord Owen (Labour, then SDP) was optimistic we would avoid conflict largely because of Trump’s presidency, and he praised Trump’s determination to provide security for his own country and his recognition of the strategic importance of Greenland and the Panama Canal.

I can see one possible benefit of having a full inquiry into the almost exclusively Muslim grooming gangs who raped and assaulted and in some cases murdered young white girls and are perhaps still doing so in a selection of Britain’s ghastliest towns. The number of lawyers it would employ and the enormous salaries they received might just about tilt us out of a recession next quarter. I can’t see much other benefit. Anyone who thinks it might provide justice for the thousands of girls and their families is living under a grave delusion.

Do you know, I have noticed a certain thawing in the BBC’s attitude to the American entrepreneur, Elon Musk. I wonder what might have occasioned such a sharp change in mindset of late? It is all a bit of a mystery. I never believed that Musk would bung Reform UK £100 million, and as the weeks went by the promise seemed to become more and more vague. But that’s not what this article is about. It’s about Tommy Robinson – or, as the BBC always refers to him, Stephen Yaxley-Lennon. Why do they insist upon doing this? What about all those blokes who were once called Laurence and are now called Loretta? Do they ever say: “Laurence Smith who now calls himself Loretta Smith”? Of course, they do it because they hate Robinson. And they may have cause to do so.

Lying in bed pissed on Boxing Day night, I was visited by the ghost of Christmas Future, dressed in a grey jacket with a velvet collar, hovering over my pit cackling and in a similar state, alcohol-wise, to myself. It seemed very happy, this ghost. It led me to a graveyard where it pointed, in jubilation, at a headstone which had the words ‘Kemi Badenoch 2024-2026’ on it. ‘You shouldn’t joke about people passing away, Nigel,’ I told this phantom a little sententiously. ‘She’s not actually dead, you idiot,’ replied the wraith, lighting a fag. ‘It’s a metaphor.’ When I awoke 12 hours later, my mobile phone flashed a message inviting me to join Reform UK, Europe’s fastest-growing political party.

We are approaching the deadline for the prestigious ‘Most Odious Political Commentator of the Year’ award. Alastair Campbell and Rory Stewart’s joint bid is so far out in front of the pack, that the result is surely a foregone conclusion. But this should not deter us from running through some of the other noble contenders.  Owen Jones has had a quietish year, for which we should all be grateful I am keeping my eye on Newsnight’s Nick Watt as a dark horse. Frequently seen gracing Watt's programme (and on which he was a staffer) is the ghastly Lewis Knowall, who plies his trade now with the shriekingly right-on Emily Maitlis on something called The News Agents.