Tuesday, 7 February 2017

How do you solve a problem like John Bercow? (With apologies to my vertically-challenged friends)

Mind you, it's little wonder that this sanctimonious pimple wouldn't want Donald Trump besmirching the dignity of the Houses of Parliament:

Bercow is one of those small men who tend to give small men a bad name. He is a stereotypically bumptious, preening, strutting, egomaniacal, self-righteous, virtue-signalling little twit whose title hangs "loose about him, like a giant's robe/ Upon a dwarfish thief".  If I were a small man, I'd be livid with him, just as, if I were a civilised Muslim, I'd be livid every time one of my co-religionists slaughtered, tortured, raped or mutilated in the name of Allah; if I were a Jew, and I ever got the chance, I'd be tempted to slap "Sir" Phillip Green's fat face; if I were a Welshman, I'd have spent the last forty years begging Neil Kinnock to shut his mouth; and, as a half-Scot, a little part of me dies whenever Nichola Sturgeon delivers one of her monotonous, deluded, anti-English diatribes. 

I've known lots of men of well below average height. I've worked with and for them, and have had them as friends - and enemies (mostly the former). There's been nothing in the least bit "typical" about any of them - I have never been remotely tempted to start a sentence with the phrase "The thing I've found with small men..." - because there isn't any particular "thing" I've found which characterises small men (well, apart from their lack of height). And yet David Bercow manages to embody just about every unpleasant "small man" stereotype in existence. Given that his charming, demure wife towers above him, maybe he has a genuine complex about his lack of inches. Perhaps if Donald Trump hadn't been over six feet tall, the Speaker wouldn't have felt impelled to indulge in such a grotesque display of moral hauteur

Actually, I'm not sure I approve of applying the term "dwarf" to Bercow. I've only known one genuine dwarf in my life, an Englishwoman who worked for a team of British lawyers in Lisbon, and lived on small farm about 50 minutes' drive from the city. She was utterly magnificent - one of the "biggest" people I've ever met. The same cannot be said of Bercow, who, apart from his ego, is one of the "littlest" people currently on the national stage.

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