Mouthwash and hogwash

REALITY check. It is not good enough for David Cameron to praise his close-protection squad. If the jogger in Leeds had had a knife and evil intent, Nick Clegg would today be prime minister. If we get through the General Election campaign without some deranged loonie trying to behead a candidate, we will be very lucky. Close protection needs to be rather closer and a lot more protective.

IF you awoke to yesterday's news about a lack of trust between children and the police, you were probably puzzled. My mental image of children first encountering police is entirely positive. It is of those school visits to the local police station where some amiable old desk sergeant shows off the cells to Year Five and pretends to keep his sandwiches in his helmet, and half the kids decide on the spot they want to join the police. Hardly a lack of trust, is it? And then you read the report of the Commons all-party group more closely and discover they define "children" as anyone aged under 18. They are talking about what we used to call youths. It may be politically-correct to pretend that big, stroppy teenagers are still children but what good does it do?

EXCELLENT to see the first series of Sherlock getting a repeat showing on BBC3, even if the plots are bonkers. Everything hangs on one monstrous suspension of disbelief, namely that no-one in the 21st century has ever heard of a 19th century detective called Sherlock Holmes. Dr Watson goes online to discover more about Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch). We are expected to believe Watson found a lot about the 21st century Holmes on Google, but not a word about Conan Doyle's deerstalker-wearing, drug-taking original. Funny sort of Google.

SOME Sherlock trivia-watchers insist that the detective's famous house in Baker Street would not have had the famous number 221B on the front door. Apparently the houses were divided into apartments on each floor, so 221A was on the ground floor, 221B on the first floor, and so on. The front door would have had the number 221 but the A,B and C numbers would have been indoors.

THE Royal British Legion, like the old Queen Mum, blue passports and red telephone boxes, is one of those Great British Treasures we are not supposed to criticise. And yet who can look at this year's array of RBL poppy-logo merchandise without thinking, gawd that's tacky? The simple red poppy was once the universal, democratic symbol of remembrance, worn by monarchs and manual workers alike. Today there seems an indecent pride in owning the flashiest, most expensive poppy-based item. So how about an RBL crystal poppy badge at £14.99? Or poppy cufflinks at £79.99? The Legion has even re-crafted the Union Jack (isn't that treason or something?) with multiple poppies in the white bits to create the design for the "union poppy" iPhone cover at £9.99. And don't forget your poppy umbrella, a snip at £24.99. How long before we can buy the Somme poppy dishcloth or the sacred yet sexy Passchendaele thong?

THE British Dental Journal reports that Britons living 1,800 years ago suffered less gum disease than we have today. No surprises there. Sugar, sweets, fags and a rise in diabetes all contribute to gum disease which, after a certain stage, cannot be cured. And that's the real surprise. Why is there no effective treatment for such a common bacterial disease? There's a fortune waiting for someone.

INCIDENTALLY, as any dentist will confirm, adverts suggesting that using mouthwash can cure serious gum disease are eyewash and quite possibly hogwash.