Blunkett and his charter for bigots

Once again David Blunkett has confirmed himself as the principal horseman of Britain's penal apocalypse, and the rightful heir to Michael Howard. Although Blunkett doesn't exactly have "something of the night" about him - as Ann Widdecombe famously said of Howard - he does have a nasty penumbra of bigotry; the kind of bigotry which is born of taking intolerance and victimology as the benchmarks of the law.

New Labour have always seen out law-and-ordering the Tories as just as important to their popularity as tax breaks for the well-off middle classes - and that's saying something.

During his time as Shadow Home Secretary, Tony Blair did everything he could to outflank whatever repressive, illiberal policies were being espoused by the then Government.

Now he's in office, Blunkett, with his impeccable, meanstreets, poor-boy-done-down pedigree is his perfect hit man. When he was at the Home Office Jack Straw was a cream puff by comparison.

The appeal of tougher sentencing for murderers is that it speaks to those decent (largely white) working-class voters who might otherwise hear the siren call of uncompassionate conservatism and parties even further Right.

The problem is that the emotion it capitalises on and implicitly encourages is one of intolerance. You might think that murderers aren't worthy of your concern at all, that they are human vermin who should be penned up indefinitely, but by the way society treats its least desirable citizens so shall you gauge its attitudes to the rest of us.

When Michael Howard was at the Home Office he inherited a prison regime in which substantial reforms had been made after the terrible riots of the mid-1980s. In one fell swoop he slashed prison education programmes, abolished home leave for long-sentence prisoners, and introduced a "two strikes" law that massively increased the prison population.

No subsequent Home Secretary had dared to look back at these disastrous measures and learn the lessons. Far from longer terms acting as a deterrent - something which has never been proved - they are a voting incentive for people who wish the law to enshrine their desire for vengeance.

If the people who scream about retribution for the victims of crime really want a penal code that reflects this, they should move to Saudi Arabia, or anywhere that practises sharia law.

And what of mandatory 30-year terms for murderers? Minimum tariffs are not now set arbitrarily, and there is a proper balance between the powers of the judiciary and the Government. No murderer is released into the community unless the possibility of his reoffending has been seriously discounted by informed professionals.

Once out, life still means life: weekly signing on at police stations, police surveillance and an immediate recall to prison if there is any breach of the offender's licence. Forever.

By hanging murderers out to dry for the sake of the bigot vote, Blunkett won't solve the rise of gun crime in our society, he will merely pour all the gunpowder into the keg of the prison system.

Of course, like Howard, he will probably have left office before it goes off.

Toyah, my punk princess

I had the honour - something I can't wait to tell my grandchildren - of attending one of Toyah's first gigs as a New Wave chanteuse, which was held in the school hall at Christ's College, Finchley circa 1977. I can't remember much about the gig itself except for Toyah's distinctive yelping voice, which even at that early stage had assumed all of its mature power and range.

Not that Toyah was the only illustrious punk ever to visit my school - a few years previously seminal punk band The Vibrators had been pupils. If only they were still around to take part in a reality TV show ... I wonder what we could call such a production.

Who has spare time for a mistress?

The "Bridget Jones generation" does, of course, have a solution at hand. With rental properties in central London getting cheaper by the month, and this over-supply of young women on tap, it's high time we imported that sagacious French institution the cinq-‡sept, whereby beleaguered, middle-aged city men visit their mistresses for a couple of hours after work every day.

Pining young women will be satisfied and real estate values increased.

It all means a happier and more productive society. Of course, given the punitive working hours in many British offices, most men will only be able to manage neuf-‡-onze. Biannually.

Church is no place to glorify the war

If the Iraqis are living in an autonomous, peaceful country with a representative government in five years' time, then I'll happily join Tony et al in raising hosannas to the rooftops, but for now all the state's high priest should do is offer prayers for all the dead, combatants and noncombatants, on both sides.

Frankly, I've never got the role of Christianity in warfare. As I understood it - albeit in my own simplistic way - Jesus Christ's whole shtick was to turn the other cheek.

That was a couple of millennia ago, and yet whenever the balloon goes up we get the bizarre sight of men in dog collars and campaign ribbons blessing our belligerents.

Surely it's this kind of hypocrisy that does for organised religion quite as much as fiddling with the choir boys?

And besides, what do our brave boys in the forces need a pageant for anyway? Virtue is its own reward, isn't it? Not some old geezer in a dress maundering on about how fabulous you are.

If the Army itself is to be believed, British troops managed to send 333 Iraqi soldiers to paradise for every squaddie who went to heaven during the taking of Basra.

With those kind of odds against fulfilling the Sixth Commandment I wouldn't bother taking part in the moral tombola run by the established Church.

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