P&J Column 12.1.17

Is this dossier on Donald a big story, or just wee one?

J Fergus Lamont, Arts Critic and Author of “The Filth and the Fury – the unauthorised biography of Carol Smillie”

This week saw a bravura performance from a young artist of such poise and promise that he could have stepped straight out of the cabaret clubs of Weimar Germany.  I doubt you’ll have heard of him – his satirical work has thus far attracted little, if any publicity – but I predict great things from young Donald J. Trump.  His particular genius lies in affecting the persona of an inarticulate pre-teen bully, unexpectedly elevated to the position of president-elect of the United States of America – from whence he offers his pithy, ill-informed critique on all and sundry, while showing all the emotional robustness of a sugar-deprived toddler when someone has the temerity to fire back; all to hilarious effect.    This week he has treated us to what I am given to understand are known as “twitter rants” about how Meryl Streep is ‘overrated’, the injustice of ‘fake news’ and that the Russian Government should be trusted over U.S. Intelligence agencies – all delivered without the tiniest soupcon of irony.

Like the work of Sacha Baron Cohen, his oeuvre constantly stands on the brink of disaster, for the characterisation is simply too extreme to remain credible.  But therein lies its joy.  The notion that the future President of the greatest nation on earth could be spending his time obsessively watching television and then ineffectually name-calling all who offer dissent is as absurdly delicious as it is drenched in pathos.  For shock value, it could only be bettered if Ghandi were reanimated as a belligerent London cabbie.  Bravo, Donald, bravo, for bravely showing us the dystopian future that could lie ahead if ever a President like you were elected in real life. I wept.

View from the Midden – rural affairs with Jock Alexander

It’s been a cineastic wik in the village, as we’re buzzing fae the news that noted comic book, superhero film and dried milk manufacturer Marvel are planning tae shoot their new Avengers picter “across Scotland”. Reports say February’s filming will include Glasgow, Edinburgh, and the Highlands. Weel, why should these be the only option? Aiberdeen micht nae be in the running as a location – unless this is the een far Iron Man gings tae the bookies, and the Hulk smashes up a pound shop, but, fit mair apt setting fer a lurid fantasy involving oddly dressed fowk bashing each ither up than Meikle Wartle?

The village wid be ideal for shooting a multimillion dollar blockbuster. There’s a barren majesty tae wir unspoilt, windswept scenery. Nae smartphone publicity shots would iver get oot, thanks tae oor mobile black-spot. Nae crowds of curious onlookers, nae paparazzi, or telegraph poles. Or trees. And the big destructive fight scene at the end can be verra economically staged in the village square, far maist buildings are aboot tae collapse onywye. Plus, there’s ample accommodation fer Samuel L. Jackson’s entourage in auld Muggie Grant’s B&B on the high street. Feel Moira is affa keen tae tell Mr Jackson aboot a script she’s written aboot snakes terrorising fowk in Old Rayne. Noo, If only she could come up wi’ a title.

Cheerio!

Cava Kenny Cordiner, the football pundit who goes in feet first

Confidence is a sensual ingredient of being a top sportsman, like what I was. But sometimes there is a fine line between confidence and angoras. Take curly-haired golf maestro Rory Mcilroy, for instance. He was on the news this week saying that he is ruling himself out of the Tokyo Olympics in 2020. I think he’s bolting the cart after the horse is in front of stable door, there. He might be good at golf, but I can’t seem him sailing past Mo Farrah on the home straight!

Mind you, it does spare the selectors a headache when the time comes. I don’t know if my old pal Gordon Strachan reads my column, but if you does, and if we somehow manage to qualify for the 2018 World Cup, and if somehow you’re still the gaffer, I’m ruling myself out. My knees aren’t up to it, Gogsy, so it’s only fair I let you know.

Speaking of the World Cup, I seen that Fifa has voted to expand it to 48 teams. A lot of folks is saying that this is just total exploitation – a shameless attempt to make money, and I have to say, I agrees. It’s going to cost a fortune to get all that stickers for my Panini album.