The Judge's Underpants

In executing a breathtakingly brilliant strategy, worthy of the late George Carman QC, Sir Stephen Richard's leading counsel persuaded Sir Stephen to display his old briefs to the judge.

David Fisher QC asked the eminent Court of Appeal judge (all Court of Appeal judges are by definition eminent):

“In order to remove your penis when you’re wearing your Calvin Klein briefs, is it necessary to use one or two hands?”

To this the judge memorably replied:

“If I had a pee, I would use two hands. It is the natural way of doing it.”

This reply was, of course, fatal to the prosecution case that the judge had exposed his penis twice to a lady on the London underground.

Game, Set and Match!

I understand that the Crown Prosecution Service are immediately revising their training manual to include a completely rewritten version of the chapter on Resisting the Underpants Defence.

American defense lawyers have beseiged the UK solicitors actiing for Sir Stephen.

Mrs Charman in The Times (and in the money)

The interview with Mrs Charman reported in The Times is fascinating for family lawyers in many respects but I only want to focus on her extraordinary comment on pre-nuptial agreements.

"The wife who secured the biggest divorce award in British legal history backed the Court of Appeal judges over the need for prenuptial agreements.

Beverley Charman, 54, told The Times: 'I would definitely have one now and I would advise my sons to have them. But at the time we married we had no expectation of money.' "

Let me make absolutely sure that I have understood this:

(1) Does Mrs Charman mean that she would have agreed to a pre-nup, if Mr Charman had wanted one, before they married?

(2) Alternatively, does she only mean that she would want a pre-nup if she were to remarry?

She says "now" so I think the answer to (1) is probably:

Well, who knows, but I am bloody glad I didn't because I would not have this megafortune in the bank.

The answer to (2) would then be:

Absolutely yes. Do you think I want some passing fancy to walk off with my megafortune in the bank?

She then refers to her sons entering into pre-nups. Perhaps she is concerned about them marrying women like herself who are "not greedy"?

She conducted the interview at her solicitor's office. She may have been advised what to say. Who knows?

Whoever wrote the script, the only keyword thhat sums up this comment and, indeed, the whole interview, is hypocrisy - of the breathtaking variety.

"Lawyer apologises over TB flight scare"

This is a headline from the London Times of today's date.

Cynics amongst you will want to comment that the first two words of the title must be unique so far as truthful news reports are concerned.

This reminds me of a joke repeated several times in Michael Connelly's The Lincoln Lawyer (a real page-turner):

"What's the difference between a catfish and a lawyer?"

"One's a bottom-feeding shit sucker and the other one's a fish."

With minor variations this joke is available all over the internet so the ascription to Michael Connelly is hardly necessary but I still am enjoying his ingenious courtroom drama. I'm saving 50 or so pages for later.

Richard Dawkins is God: Gosh! I've only just read The God Delusion

God prevented me from uploading this image of Himself correctly. It will be lightning bolts next!

I suppose he did not let me download or upload it because (a) fuck's sake, He's God or (b) it was a bad likeness or (c) copywright infringement or (d) he really is just a greenish panel of nothingness.

Those of you who believe (a) to be the correct answer may as well turn your monitors off. You are beyond redemption and beyond reason. Restarting the computer is probably too difficult for you, so I have kept it nice and simple. If you cannot find the button to turn off the monitor, pull the plug out of the wall and go to bed with a nice cup of chocolate. When you wake up, sell your computer. Knowledge and information are not things you need. Buy a PlayStation. I believe (without knowing and without having any evidence at all and, indeed, without caring whether there is any evidence) that they include a free game entitled "Suicide Bombers and the Ultra-Virgins". You will like it.

Those who answered (b) or (c) are only mildly less insane.

The correct answer was, of course, (d).

There is no God. Professor Dawkins has proved it.

Well, he didn’t really need to. The basic idea is obvious. Did he really need to write a whole book about it? Most of the book is either elaboration or written in support of his alternative explanation for life: Darwinian evolution. His alternative theories may be right (and they are certainly interesting) but you do not need to buy into the positive exposition to realise that the Christian, Jewish or Muslim “god” is an improbable explanation for life on earth.

The improbability of god is summed up in a three word question. Who created god? Once you realise the infinite regression this traps you into (Who created the being or thing that created the being or thing that created god?) no sane person can believe in god.

My school had a joint debating society with a nearby girls’ school. I ran it (essentially, this was the 70’s and the girls mostly just did as they were told - with the exception of my girlfriend: see below). I once held a debate on the existence of God and the utility (or otherwise) of Jesus as a role model. The headmistress of the local girls’ school forbade her pupils to even attend.

That’s right! She did not say “Go forth, and defend Jesus.” She simply did not want the pure little ears of “her girls” to be exposed to contrary opinions. As I remember it, she did not let them attend a debate on homosexuality either. So, god and gayness had a special status. You were not allowed (at least, her girls were not allowed) to dispute the given truths that god was good and gay was bad.

You probably think I am making this up and you will be reinforced in your belief if I tell you that the girls’ school was called Nonsutch School. OK, ye unbelievers go to their website and be justly smited for thy unbelief! And, one girl did turn up! Admittedly, she was my girlfriend at the time but she went to Nonsutch School and defied her headmistress.

I went to Sutton Manor High School (as it was briefly called in an attempted act of camouflage) or, as it is now proud to call itself, its original name, Sutton Grammar School.

I bet the headmistress in question would like me to give her a capital letter. She, dead or alive, does not deserve one (and that goes for god too), but my Headmaster does. Dr Walsh was a religious man and his doctorate was in science (I think, physics). But, although he suspended me on three occasions, he ignored reported sightings of me on the premises and was always a lively and interested participant in our personal debates (otherwise, my harangues, or, from his perspective, the disciplinary interviews).

Lots of (but, crucially, not all) theists act as if they are sane in other aspects of their lives.

It is the “not all” bit that justifies Professor Dawkins’ book and the time and trouble he took to write it.

Incidentally, he is also a very good writer and I have found it difficult to put down this book notwithstanding that I had other pressing matters requiring my immediate attention. That is about as good as it gets if you are looking for praise from me. But, of course, neither “god” nor Professor Dawkins will be even slightly interested in my opinion. On the other hand, at least one of them exists.

I am so convinced of his existence that I have pre-elected myself as High Priest of the cargo cult that will arise around Professor Dawkins' bones. So please address me as Your Holiness in future. Otherwise, Steven will do. But NOT Steve. I'll cast a spell on you if you call me Steve. And you know that, as the preemptive High Priest of the Church of Richard Dawkins, my spells work.

Are they twins?

Surely they are!

The Fat Boy Farts

Oh dear! Littlejohn's been caught with his pants down again. Not a pretty sight. As a moral arbiter he stinks even with his pants up.

Have a Nice Day! The Uber PM Speaks Sincerely to You

And he means that most sincerely, folks.

Hendrix or Dylan?

All Along the Watchtower is a great song but whose version is best?

The Wicked Messenger

Cyberthiefs are exploiting the genuine Madeleine McCann website by typosquatting.

These disgusting bastards include, according to The Times, "chat rooms, estate agents and dating sites".

Click on the title to view The Times's article.

I am a bit surprised that chat rooms and dating sites should resort to this practice. The fact that estate agents are involved causes no surprise whatsover.

I have met one honourable estate agent so they should not all be tarred with the same brush.

Name & Shame: I will publish a list of these miserable bastards once I have verified their status.

Madeleine, Frankie Lee and the Judas Priest

The Internet has ensured that there is nowhere on the planet that Madeleine McCann's kidnapper can hide.

The outpouring of prayer and support across the globe is touching and brings tears to even the most hardened cynic's eyes.

But the doomsayer in me says that it may also have hastened Madeleine's death.

He (it is almost certainly a he) is now the most cornered rat of all time. As such, he will resort to desperate measures without analysing the consequences.

Even as a non-believer, I pray not. But does prayer have power? Madeleine McCann's fate may thus be God's ultimate test.

He may already have failed you. I pray not.

The picture above symbolises the most perfect of happy families. No-one but a sadistic pervert would seek to render it asunder. Unfortunately, the rat knows that and his instinct for self preservation may lead him into unthinkable territory.

The Ur-Prime Minister

Hasn't the boy done well?

Forget the troubles.

10 years a PM. That counts as a good innings. You gave it to him. Fast or slow, he can take the bowling.

He chooses his time of going. Gosh, he finishes "not out".

In fact, he is not out plus seven weeks in which he has a free passs to slog them all over the field. No-one is allowed to catch his balls during this period!

Alright, Let's Mention It - The DVLA Sex Scandal

It is important not to become obsessive. I have therefore resolved not to post anything about DVLA for, at least, say, another 24 hours.

There is more than one sex scandal associated with the DVLA. For instance, the tent girl.

They like it hot in Swansea.

The DVLA at NIght: Don't Mention the Sex Scandal

Does not this look nice? (Welsh word order). It is a much nicer photograph than the one in my previous post. That was a Kafkaesque gulag.


Here it is again:

Which of the pictures truly exemplifies the way the DVLA works?

(a) The carefully laquerred self portait; or

(b) Kafka's Castle.

Do not click on the title if you dislike scandalous sex stories.

My Driving Licence, the DVLA and Diabetes

The good people at DVLA (the Driver Vehicle Licencing Authority in the UK) have revoked my driving licence following a minor road accident.

This is because I am a diabetic.

I should add that the police confirmed verbally on the day they would be taking no further action and subsequently confirmed this in writing. That is, not even the most minor road traffic offence (probably, driving without due care and intention - I am a civil litigator not a criminal lawyer) was to be brought, nor was I to be warned or cautioned.

The form I filled in for DVLA asked for details of my consultant and my General Practitioner. I (I think, reasonably) assumed that this meant that they would consult them before reaching a decision.

They did not. This was confirmed when I asked if they had received my fax enclosing a diabetic unit medical opinion following the accident. Apparently, it takes up to 72 hours for a fax to register on the system. It can take up to 15 days for an ordinary letter to register on the system.

They have twelve doctors and "thousands" of medical applications to deal with.

The letter informed me that I could appeal to the Magistrate's Court (months of delay) but, over the telephone, I was told that I could apply for a review.

This, I have done. I will post the results.

The Maypole Hole, the Hole in Mrs Cole's Pocket and the Compensation Culture

Mrs Yvonne Cole stepped in a disused hole designed to accomodate a maypole. Quite how serious her injuries were is not revealed by the Court of Appeal judgment as the value of her claim has not been considered. Proceedings had been confined to liability.

She won in Brighton County Court.

The Royal British Legion appealed to the Court of Appeal and won.

Read their judgments (and weep) by clicking on the title.

The pastoral meanderings worked for Lord Denning but they do not work now. A lot of crap about village greens determined the law on this one.