Evil Diaries: Classification

It is not as though I resent paying my BBC TV licence fee so much that I am minded to have a go at them at every opportunity but, really, the BBC live in another world.

For instance, they reported last week that two of the most prominent of those who sought to storm the Capitol two and a half years ago are far right. But, surely, they are merely convicted insurrectionists, albeit rather unsuccessful ones. Their political views are not known even though the insurrectionists were presumably inspired by Trump to behave just that way.

As it happens, I put this problem to Dominic Lawson a week or two ago since I am not alone in finding this far right/far left business extremely muddling. He is a busy man and has yet to opine, but I hope he does.

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In the same but much simpler vein, I pointed out to the BBC some years ago that their constant use of the term middle class is also irritating since, other than those of a middle income for income tax in the eyes of HMRC, it means nothing. Indeed, I suggested to the production side of Radio 4’s Today programme that since they so frequently referred to the views/nature of the middle class I would, should they wish, give the views of the upper class – after all, such a categorisation must be possible as the BBC define matters.

I do not of course own a castle or style myself Lord Snooty after the lad with a topper in the Beano but somebody has to speak up for the underrepresented so to achieve balance. My only reservation in offering this public service is that if there is any notable feature of a proper member of the upper class it is that no such claim is publicly made by the alleged member. I trust that all is now clear.

Certainly, the BBC were at it again last week since they pointed out that historically members of the working class were the first lot frequently to turn to being tattooed. They added that in recent years such self-besmirchers have been joined by the middle class. Although how that classification is decided for these purposes was not clarified. (I seem to remember some Royal Navy admiral of one hundred plus years ago who had a tattoo of a fox’s tail disappearing up his bottom. He was obviously obsessed with rural sport. He could never have indulged his love of fox-hunting in the ward room and, of course, still less displayed his posterior there.)

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One of HMG’s objectives is to infantilise the electorate until there are no critical faculties left. The central theme is to take decisions to act on behalf of individual citizens to save them the fag. A very recent example is that savers holding deposits at banks are not receiving an uplift in deposit rates to match lending rates. Banks just love taking advantage of savers. So they do.

Savers seem not to realise that they are depositing money at a bank according to a contract that they have entered into with the bank. Nowhere does this contract declare that rising base rates charged by the BoE lead to improved deposit rates of interest. It is entirely down to savers to approach their banks and insist on improved rates failing which the depositor will withdraw his funds. The bank is entitled to ask for a fee for monitoring the scope for improved deposit rates. And, to be realistic, this fee, which is not tax deductible unless charged to a commercial account, is bound to swamp interest earned upon a deposit of, say, less than £10,000. So there is room for compromise and negotiation. The important point is that savers should think in terms of contracts rather than vaguely expressed climates of patronage. This requires effort.

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Jason Kelly, the golfing and betting expert, has sent me a photo of Frankie Dettori giving some compliant Ascot winner his two big wet lips applied to those of the horse. The sex of the horse is uncertain since the photo is insufficiently extensive. But, clearly, Mr Luis Rubiales is not alone in recognising exceptional sporting performance.

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I welcome tutoring applicants, one or, at most, two at a time, the skill of investing in investment trusts. This is where the money is for the patient who do not want to follow their stock market bets through prices shown in, say, the Daily Mail. Please apply to me. I shall ask my wife to lay on chocolate eclairs and Arabica. If we go past midday on a ninety minute session I shall offer bullshots as well.