Monthly Archives: July 2008

Lemur panto

I have recently been enjoying a British freeview channel named Dave. For a start, the name is so witty. In no way was its dreamt up by cocksure marketing men who go to work dressed in pin-stripe jackets with jeans and trainers. Oh, no. I like it so much that I wish to have one in my country. It will be called Robert.

But I was outraged to see, on a re-run of Have I Got News for You, footage of a gay colonial imperialist called Paul Merton laughing at my name. (My predecessor, Canaan Banana, also had this problem, but then he was later jailed for sodomy, so he had it coming.) He said that Mugabe spelt backwards is E-ba-gum. This is funny? Funny how?

Well, Mr Merton, two can play at that game. On Robert, I shall have shows laughing at you. Yes. Your name is an anagram of “lemur panto”. Ha! We shall broadcast hours of lemur pantomime to shame you.

We shall also have:

Manure Plot, a spy thriller involving an international conspiracy to seize control of production of the world’s animal waste;

Mule Patron, a sitcom about an animal rights activist’s mishaps as she attempts to run a sanctuary for load-bearing animals;

Loam Punter, a documentary blowing the lid on underground soil gambling;

Rum Polenta, in which celebrity chefs create a variety mouth-watering dishes employing boiled cornmeal and Caribbean spirits;

Tampon Rule, an educational chat show for ladies;

Menu Patrol, a variation on America’s Dumbest Criminals in which my secret police bust celebrity chefs who fail to use of polenta and rum in their dishes; and

Amulet Porn, a late-night show for talisman fetishists (although this may merit its own channel).


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The power of love

Well, thank goodness that’s over for another five years. I sometimes wonder why we bother to have general elections at all. As recent events have shown, I cannot be beaten, whereas Morgan Tsvangirai quite obviously can be (unless he’s in the Dutch Embassy, the slippery eel).

But elections, like the act of love, are matters in which champions must continually prove themselves. My top tip for both is that if things don’t go well the first time, you can make a more concerted effort after a hiatus of your own choosing.

Anyhow, I was delighted to have received the highest of plaudits from the Iranian foreign ministry recently – on the election result rather than my lovemaking, I should add. I have no doubt that Mohammad Ali Hosseini would be impressed by the latter as well, but of course he would have to hang himself, as homosexuality is illegal in Iran as it is here. I am, of course, not gay, unlike many so-called Western leaders, who definitely are.


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