Sunday 1 February 2009

Here's One I Painted Earlier

So now we know: Brown sees himself as very much a
Titian kind of chap - a tirelessly productive genius coming to the end of a career encompassing the macroeconomic equivalent of 'nearly 100 brilliant paintings' and, as he prepares to lay down his fiscal brush for the last time, realising that only now, at the end, is he beginning to learn how to do it. This can be taken as a frank admission that up till now he hasn't had a clue - but I rather doubt that was the intent. Or - which he surely did intend - it can be taken as an effort to align himself with greatness, with the wisdom of experience, with a reborn gusto for the conquest of new worlds. Unfortunately for Gordon, it seems to have been almost universally read as yet another symptom of his increasingly delusional state. It takes more than mere nerve, more than chutzpah, more than hubris for a busted PM who has bankrupted his country and is clinging to power by his fingernails to liken himself to one of the greatest artists the world has ever seen or is ever likely to see - and one whose late works in particular are wonders that transcend even his earlier triumphs. As the man said to T. Danforth Quayle - I knew Jack Titian, Jack Titian was a friend of mine. You, Mr Brown, are no Titian.
But enough of this sad mad man and his quest to lead us all into perdition. There is good news on the Titian front too - Diana and Actaeon has been saved, Diana and Calisto will surely follow. This suggests that we might be, after all and despite the best efforts of our masters, a civilised nation.

1 comment:

  1. So it's been saved then Nige, I thought there were a new pair of gates on Mertoun House as I drove past yesterday, that's the Dook of S's local pad, he's the new kid on the block, the old one recently popping his clogs. They have "open days" once a year when we local clods can mingle with our betters, in reality the old duchess was a decent old bird who would quite cheerfully pass the time of day, unlike the new mob.
    Actaeon is one of the delights of the Scottish National, along with the three bums.

    Hopefully the fate awaiting Broon will be the equal of Actaeon's, plenty of labour dogs waiting in the undergrowth.