AN ARMED POLICE FORCE?
A British born middle-aged nut job goes berserk with a hired car on Westminster Bridge and the cry for cowboy cops reaches another crescendo.
The reaction is understandable. Not only did this loser kill and maim innocent people going about their peaceful business, he then murdered an unarmed Palace of Westminster police officer (who should, surely, have been armed?) before another officer (who came from lord knows where, armed but just too late) rightly shot him dead.
So what next?
Must we finally give way to the gun totin' example set by America and most of the rest of the world? Will all British bobbies soon be wearing side arms?
I fear so and I hope not.
Throughout my life I have come to know (and generally like) quite a lot of policemen. The majority of them, whatever their rank or disposition, have been opposed to the notion of an armed police force in Britain. They believe that weapon carrying lawmen attract weapon carrying villains. I respect that opinion.
Doesn't stop me wishing, whenever some murderous moron attacks them, that they all wore body protection and were armed with more than a truncheon. I fear, though, that many British policemen given guns would be more of a danger to themselves, their colleagues and the public, than to any armed lawbreaker.
Perhaps the answer is to equip them with Tasers.
I am also much inclined to the belief that only the terrorist bedecked in explosives is likely to be a genuine 'soldier of Isis' (or whatever the fundamentalist freaks are currently calling themselves). The rest are just pathetic publicity seekers who see an act of insane violence as their sole guarantee of gaining the public recognition they have no hope of obtaining in any other way.
Sick world, ain't it?
TELEVISION.
Colin Dexter, the crime writer whose thirteen Morse books (from which came the television series, succeeded by the equally popular Lewis and then Endeavour follow ups) has died aged 86.
The entire Morse set was gifted to me some years ago by the younger of our two daughters, Roz, and I am still assiduously ploughing through them.
Mr. Dexter was, of course, that little bloke whose Hitchcockian appearances in his televised Morse and Lewis stories were waggish fun. His death came as a small reminder to me that none of us goes on forever. He was two days my junior.
This week:
Yasmin Alibhai Brown has been one of the panellists on The Wright Stuff and I have watched with a smile as she has entered into brief exchanges with fellow panellist Richard Fairbrass and guests such as Alistair Campbell.
Though we have never met, I like Yasmin and only occasionally disagree with her, so it was good to hear that she has been voted Newspaper Columnist of the Year at this year's National Press Awards.
I would say "Good on you, girl!" but that would be extremely pesumptuous, probably sexist, and could get me into big trouble with the PC brigade.
Sod it. I'll say it anyway. "Good on you, girl!"
Another series of Call the Midwife came and went. We watched every episode, as we always do, close to tears at the tear-jerker situations (don't talk to us about the good old days, we lived them) and filled to the brim with admiration at the sheer talent of the actors involved. I hope they'll all be back before too long.
I guess everybody has a favourite. Mine is Judy Parfitt who, if my memory serves me rightly, played some deliciously nasty characters in her youth, and now plays Sister Monica Joan, a dementia sufferer with a wonderful heart, a sweet tooth and a wicked sense of humour. She has me misty-eyed as soon as she appears. My Leader smiles and says: "She's done it again, hasn't she." Yep, she has.
She does it every time.
The reaction is understandable. Not only did this loser kill and maim innocent people going about their peaceful business, he then murdered an unarmed Palace of Westminster police officer (who should, surely, have been armed?) before another officer (who came from lord knows where, armed but just too late) rightly shot him dead.
So what next?
Must we finally give way to the gun totin' example set by America and most of the rest of the world? Will all British bobbies soon be wearing side arms?
I fear so and I hope not.
Throughout my life I have come to know (and generally like) quite a lot of policemen. The majority of them, whatever their rank or disposition, have been opposed to the notion of an armed police force in Britain. They believe that weapon carrying lawmen attract weapon carrying villains. I respect that opinion.
Doesn't stop me wishing, whenever some murderous moron attacks them, that they all wore body protection and were armed with more than a truncheon. I fear, though, that many British policemen given guns would be more of a danger to themselves, their colleagues and the public, than to any armed lawbreaker.
Perhaps the answer is to equip them with Tasers.
I am also much inclined to the belief that only the terrorist bedecked in explosives is likely to be a genuine 'soldier of Isis' (or whatever the fundamentalist freaks are currently calling themselves). The rest are just pathetic publicity seekers who see an act of insane violence as their sole guarantee of gaining the public recognition they have no hope of obtaining in any other way.
Sick world, ain't it?
TELEVISION.
The entire Morse set was gifted to me some years ago by the younger of our two daughters, Roz, and I am still assiduously ploughing through them.
Mr. Dexter was, of course, that little bloke whose Hitchcockian appearances in his televised Morse and Lewis stories were waggish fun. His death came as a small reminder to me that none of us goes on forever. He was two days my junior.
This week:
Though we have never met, I like Yasmin and only occasionally disagree with her, so it was good to hear that she has been voted Newspaper Columnist of the Year at this year's National Press Awards.
I would say "Good on you, girl!" but that would be extremely pesumptuous, probably sexist, and could get me into big trouble with the PC brigade.
Sod it. I'll say it anyway. "Good on you, girl!"
Another series of Call the Midwife came and went. We watched every episode, as we always do, close to tears at the tear-jerker situations (don't talk to us about the good old days, we lived them) and filled to the brim with admiration at the sheer talent of the actors involved. I hope they'll all be back before too long.
I guess everybody has a favourite. Mine is Judy Parfitt who, if my memory serves me rightly, played some deliciously nasty characters in her youth, and now plays Sister Monica Joan, a dementia sufferer with a wonderful heart, a sweet tooth and a wicked sense of humour. She has me misty-eyed as soon as she appears. My Leader smiles and says: "She's done it again, hasn't she." Yep, she has.
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