Blessed are the unwired

NO, I'm not a racist. I just like throwing black people off trains. The more we learn about the Chelsea fans in the Paris Metro, the stranger it gets.

THE problem with men of God dabbling in politics is that they are so accustomed to their word being law ehat they don't expect people to question it. But we live in questioning times and, for those online, questioning has never been quicker and easier. So when the Church of England piously declared that no-one should earn less than the "decent" £7.85 per hour living wage it took only a few minutes to reveal that some cathedral jobs pay a measly £6.50 an hour. Blessed are the unwired for they shall not Google.

AND didn't the Archbishop of Canterbury look peeved on telly when he was accused of not practising what he preaches?

IN the field outside Chateau Rhodes a hawker was hunting. He slipped a ferret into the rabbit warren and awaited developments. Now, you probably think hawking is all about casting a magnificent bird from your wrist like a supersonic thunderbolt of doom. It's not always like that . This hunter was using the popular and manageable Harris hawk which prefers mooching around on the ground to doing the thunderbolt thing. The bird reminded me of a much loved old cartoon character. Hunting with a Harris hawk is like a day out with Foghorn Leghorn.

BACK in 1969 the chart-topping hit by Blue Mink, Melting Pot, was the last word in enlightened, politically-correct sentiment, cheerfully looking forward to a time when all the races would be mixed into one coffee-coloured world. Part of the blend would be "Curly Latin kinkies, mixed with yellow Chinkees." A few days ago, the local radio station BBC Three Counties played a few lines of Melting Pot before presenter Iain Lee warned listeners: "I think it might be a little bit racist now" and pulled it. The mistake we always make is assuming that today's progressive attitudes are the last word and will endure for ever. They won't. Just as we wince at Melting Pot, so our grandchildren will be horrified at the things people said and did back in 2015. Today's well-meaning liberals are tomorrow's figures of scorn.

MY eye was caught by a column in one of the nationals a couple of days ago about the deaths of thousands of people packed into boats by people-smugglers in Libya and left to perish in the Mediterranean. It was headlined sternly: "Migrant deaths that shame a continent." Damn right. The entire continent of Africa should be ashamed. While the other continents have moved on and prospered, Africa remains a self-inflicted disaster zone. Despite billions of dollars in aid, Africa is a bloody, primitive mess ruled by dictators, terrorised by witchdoctors and religious lunatics, ravaged by famine, torn apart by extreme Islam, steeped in the blood of its own children and wallowing in ignorance, superstition and filth. But if you read on, you discover that the column was not blaming Africa at all. Apparently the continent that should be ashamed of thousands of Africans being sent to their deaths by fellow Africans is, you've guessed it, Europe.

JOHN Prescott's promotion to become Ed Miliband's climate-change boss reinforces my hunch that Labour is aiming to win the General Election with the votes of people who cannot remember anything that happened more than five years ago.