Thought for the Day, with Justin Webly, more or less Arch of Cant

Hullo,

         

Justin here. 

I’m pleased to report that our Summer Fayre frolics went off tolerably well although I still fail to see why a “y” is preferable to an “i” in its title. Nevertheless, apart from a potentially dangerous stand-off between the nuns of Our Lady of Strictness and The Sisters of Cool, it was all most enjoyable. It is worth mentioning that Mr Des O’Connor, our Celebrity Guest was instrumental in calming passions between the religious ladies by collapsing half way through “If You Were the Only Girl in the World” clutching his chest immediately after the young man with the wire in his ear had darted forward to adjust Mr O’Connor’s microphone, inadvertently pinning it to the singer’s chest rather than shirt. But nuns of both persuasions saved the day and the veteran crooner was able to continue.

       

But presently, I must admit to a certain mystification with regard to our Labour Party and its search for a new leader. Mr E Miliband, the last incumbent was, to my mind, cruelly treated by the Tory Party and the media – which is owned, apparently, by the Tory Party, and as a consequence the Labour Party was soundly trounced. It now finds itself in the strange position of having an ideal candidate – Mr Jeremy Corbyn, an utterly incorruptible follower of the principles set down by Kier Hardie – but who appears to unsettle Labour Grandees. Why should that be? Might it be because Mr Corbyn wants to redress the balance between public and private ownership of essentials like energy and transport, rid us of nuclear missiles, bring the banks into line with what is legal and celebrate a quality sadly lacking in many politicians – honesty? He puts me in mind of Jesus. We all know what happened to Him.

Finally, there is one more Test Match to play. A completely splendid England XI have already won the Ashes. In theory, they could simply lark about during this last contest, bowling underarm, using the bat handle or being sent off for repeatedly raspberrying at umpires. But with cricket being cricket, they won’t. They’ll give it their all and at stumps on the final day, they will emerge as winners. Like Mr Corbyn? 

Pip, pip, 

Justin.