Simple truths
Taki
ARougernont
though he's hardly my favourite character, I'm seriously worried about Tony Blair. I feel he's in the middle of a nervous breakdown. As a peacemaker in India, covered by a rug, looking campy and resembling a dipsophobe who has walked into a friendly pub, Blair has to have lost it. No other explanation will do. He's always been smarmy and bogus, but this time he brought to mind a catamite in satyromaniacal ecstasy. Non-stop photo opportunities have done to Tony what cocaine and smack did to the late Lord Bristol. The man is a human wreck but he doesn't know it, as desperate for a TV-camera fix as any junkie, and only a palace coup can save him from a Flying Dutchman existence.
This must have been the most absurd foreign trip by a British prime minister since Munich, where at least precious time was bought. A prime minister desperately in search of a cause outside his own country can be a very funny thing. For a soap opera, that is. In real life, it is quite grotesque. Even the Untouchables were laughing. Talk about role reversal.
Until recently, Italian prime ministers were straight out of comedy central, puffed up fools talking rubbish with their hands in the till, No longer. The silliest European is Tony Blair; the best by far, Silvio Berlusconi. as determined and courageous as Blair is shifty and cowardly. They say that you can judge a man by his enemies. Just look at who is after Silvio. Otto Schilly. the German Interior Minister. Silly Schilly has called Berlusconi's behaviour unacceptable. Unacceptable to whom? The Euro-Nazis like Schilly? Or those like the Belgian Prime Minister who has presided over the protection of the pornographer and child murderer Marc Dutroux. (Dutroux has been in jail for five years but has not been brought to trial because the beans he will spill will bring down the rot that are the Belgian socialists.) Euro-Nazis pushed tiny Austria around. but Italy is not Austria. Berlusconi was right when he made anti-communist and antisocialist remarks last June in Gothenburg, and right when he referred to the superiori ty of Western civilisation over Islam last September. If the politically correct Eurocrooks don't like it — and they sure don't — too bad. Better yet, they can kiss his arse.
Mind you, the Jospins, Schillys and Louis Michels of this world are in it for the moolah and the perks, just as the Straws and Cooks are. Silvio is the 14th richest man in the world, and his critics who live off the public trough can only drool at the mouth with envy. Michael Bloomberg, the Big Bagel's new mayor, is not a nice guy, or so I hear from people who know him. But he was elected because Bagelites have had enough with professional politicians like Bloomberg's opponent, Mark Green. Ditto with Berlusconi. Italian politicians have been among the most corrupt. The people voted for Silvio, and the Eurocrooks don't like it. It might sound simplistic, but truth always is very simple.
And speaking of simple truths, I can't remember when Gstaad was more fun than this time. I began the new year chez Valentino, where I danced to my heart's content among people 30 years younger than myself.
I then went on to Aleko Goulandris where my King and Queen were seeing in 2002, and then on to the Palace where everyone was my son's age and where I really let rip. The constant non-stop parties went on until last Saturday night, when just before dawn I met the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in 65 years. I invited her to have a drink and she agreed. Things were hunky-dory for a while. Then a horrible thing happened. She left the club with a 21-year-old who turned
out to be my son. I now feel as silly as Tony Blair in India, and just as much of a fool. In fact. I think I am also having a nervous breakdown.
Previous page
