THIS column frequently preaches about “standards”, ideal behaviour to be maintained at all times. It is, of course, tongue in cheek. I never know who writes this stuff from one week to the next, but it’s all done “in character”. I’m not the person I say I am.

One aspect of this colossal deception is that the current writer is right slovenly. His house is a mess, his hair a bird’s nest, teeth unbrushed, nails untrimmed, clothes unironed.

However, the beauty of column or other fictional writing is that you can pretend to be someone else: someone smarter, more authoritative, almost perfect in every way.

You can be left-wing. You can be right-wing. It’s all an act, entirely dependent on satirical potential.

I force these explosive opening remarks into your cranium by way of introducing the fact that I am about to complain, as so often, about other people’s behaviour.

Exhibit A: Sanna Marin, “the coolest prime minister in the world”, according to German tabloid Bild. The Marin is PM of yonder Finland, but the shame doesn’t end there.

Ahead of elections in April, she has spoken out against the “frenzy” that greeted footage of her dancing last year in a lewd and libidinous manner, to the consternation of the lieges. Other video showed topless ladies kissing each other in her bathroom.

Addressing discombobulated voters, Ms Marin’s latest response to the scandal is basically to pout: “Do what I want.” The cry of the adolescent down the ages. She was behaving, she says, like “ordinary people”. Well, what passes for ordinary on the dissolute streets of downtown Helsinki will be rightly regarded as disgraceful by decent ratepayers across the globe.

Their problem, according to Madam M? “Sexism.” “Misogyny.” What utter bilge.

If Rishi Sunak, Prime Minister of England and the Other Bits, had been filmed dancing in such a way, thrusting his hips hither and yon at a lady who was not his wife, while half-naked persons cavorted in his cludgie, the furore would have been far greater and of considerable international significance.

Ms Marin rejects the idea that her behaviour was “not appropriate”. This news just in: spin it how you will, it was not appropriate. It was the sort of thing one might have expected of Nero, Caligula or David Lloyd-George.

Exhibit BBC: broadcasting news reporters looking “sweaty and dirty” rather than decently attired. This is not a jaundiced observation on your correspondent’s part, but a recommendation by the Beeb’s digital director of news, Naja Nielsen.

Viewers, she says, trust dishevelled scruffs more than stuffed shirts looking like they’ve “just stepped out of an awards ceremony or a fine dinner party”.

This refers not only to reporters in war zones. Already, a weatherman has been seen in a T-shirt. The home affairs editor has worn trainers with his suit.

Well, that’s how Nazism started. Er, maybe not. But it is, undoubtedly, a symptom of British civilisation’s decline. A reporter in full dinner dress at the scene of an ongoing battle projects solidity, calmness, order, trust and wholesome respectability in the midst of mayhem.

Is that too much to ask? Evidently so. In the meantime, I have found some bridie crumbs in my beard. Leave me now, for I would feast on them.

 

Work farce

WHAT would we be without work? Happy, free, alcoholic, rootless, pointless, lost. But you can have too much of a good thing.

Conversely, there’s too much work. That’s why a four-day week is civilisation’s next big step. The usual subjects whinge about productivity but, if we’d listened to them, we’d still be working seven days a week down the pit.

The latest UK trial of a four-day week found company revenue increased by 1.4% on average, while employees took 65% fewer sick days, and resignations fell by 57%.

It’s absurd that we spend most of our lives working for The Person. Sure, a four-day week will still be most of your life, but even rotten jobs will be more bearable. Hence 57% fewer resignations.

Though freelance hacks rarely switch off, always looking for subjects upon which to lecture readers, I get plenty time a couple of days a week to waddle along the shore or talk to the trees in the forest.

It’s this essential life-work balance that lends perspective and quiet authority to my observations.

 

Pain in the Rs

WHEN The Proclaimers sang about throwing the “R” away, it’s clear who picked it up: BBC Radio 4 presenters. In 10 minutes of one broadcast, I heard about the superpowers Rusher and Chiner; the Latin American country Cuber; and the US state of Pennsylvanier.

There were also viser applications, and the woman’s name Nicoller. Not that I’m a fan of all Scottish pronunciations.

In particular, I believe Nicola Sturgeon had to go because of the way she said, “I have votied” or “I needied”. Disgraceful.

However fascinating you find these exclusive revelations, I advise you not to start noticing similar shocking solecisms. You’ll become obsessed. You’ll switch off the radio or television upon hearing them, and sit seething for the rest of the evening.

Of course, maybe I’m just going through a difficult phase.

 

Rock gods who were above board

How uplifting to read that groupies who invaded the hotel room of Led Zeppelin found that, far from fancying a whole lotta love, the band were too busy playing Monopoly. Also, they did not want their face cream messed up. “Let’s go,” said one disappointed lass. “It wasn’t like this with David Bowie.”

Hate fail

Cancel culture has peaked and is on the wane, says Harvard social scientist Arthur Brooks. People were right to worry about “authoritarian” universities, and to stand up to woke bullies fomenting hatred, he says. Oddly enough, the impetus of the bullies was to crush “hatred”. Funny how things work out.

Nutter neck

Tech neck is a growing problem among those peculiar individuals always looking down at their portable telephones. Constantly tipping the heid forward increases pressure on the neck by 50 pounds, leading to serious problems that sometimes require surgery. Phone addiction also leads to alienated aggression, which is why there are so many nutters around today.

Strange destination

Councillor Billy Buchanan wants to know why Bonnybridge is a UFO hotspot, with 300 alleged sightings annually. Wha kens? You’d expect 300 sightings a year over the White House. But Bonnybridge? Perhaps the aliens are interested in the nearby canal. We’ve had reports of them arriving by balloon. Maybe they’re coming by barge.

Up and away

A Japanese company is offering tourists the opportunity to go up into the stratosphere for £150,000. The conveyance? A two-seater cabin attached to a helium balloon. It will take punters to the start of ooter space and allow them to see the curve of the Earth beneath them. And to wish they’d never left it.

Our columns are a platform for writers to express their opinions. They do not necessarily represent the views of The Herald.