Deputy prime minister faces a kicking at question time should he consider a chat show with Miriam after the election?
Nick Clegg would do everything in his power to stop his children going into politics, he told an interviewer this week, since it's such a beastly business and you need the skin of a tank to survive. And, really, who could blame him? He's been spat at in the street, he revealed, and had dog excrement put through his letterbox. And on top of all that, every few weeks he has to subject himself in the Commons to deputy prime minister's questions.
It is the principal duty of ministers, of course, to endure the gleeful yah-boos of the nation's finest minds without resorting to physical violence or unparliamentary language, and as such it was just another day in the office for a member of her majesty's government. And yet there is something about Clegg-baiting which sounds like a now-outlawed sport once practised by the bigger boys at some of England's pricier schools, and probably was that excites particular sympathy. Perhaps it's the resigned set of his shoulders as another parliamentary opponent rises to have their little joke. Perhaps it's the determined good cheer of the handful of yellow-clad Lib Dems to his right, urging him on with encouraging smiles to talk some more about their party's many triumphs. Either way, is it any wonder that when Clegg gets home, he cranks easy listening favourite Magic FM (another Radio Times exclusive) up to 11? There are some pains only the Lighthouse Family can ease.
Continue reading... Reported by guardian.co.uk 9 hours ago.
Nick Clegg would do everything in his power to stop his children going into politics, he told an interviewer this week, since it's such a beastly business and you need the skin of a tank to survive. And, really, who could blame him? He's been spat at in the street, he revealed, and had dog excrement put through his letterbox. And on top of all that, every few weeks he has to subject himself in the Commons to deputy prime minister's questions.
It is the principal duty of ministers, of course, to endure the gleeful yah-boos of the nation's finest minds without resorting to physical violence or unparliamentary language, and as such it was just another day in the office for a member of her majesty's government. And yet there is something about Clegg-baiting which sounds like a now-outlawed sport once practised by the bigger boys at some of England's pricier schools, and probably was that excites particular sympathy. Perhaps it's the resigned set of his shoulders as another parliamentary opponent rises to have their little joke. Perhaps it's the determined good cheer of the handful of yellow-clad Lib Dems to his right, urging him on with encouraging smiles to talk some more about their party's many triumphs. Either way, is it any wonder that when Clegg gets home, he cranks easy listening favourite Magic FM (another Radio Times exclusive) up to 11? There are some pains only the Lighthouse Family can ease.
Continue reading... Reported by guardian.co.uk 9 hours ago.