New-blog - Ina Disguise

Mother’s diet, the saga continues

July 8, 2017 3 Comments

Mother’s drink incorporates over 80 superfood and wholefood ingredients from all over the world. It includes ingredients to improve mental performance, efficient energy use, the construction of proteins to improve her skin, hair and veins. It is antacid, alkaline and anti-inflammatory. It is designed to use blood to repair using the body’s own defences, and therefore contains a very high level and range of antioxidants. It is very expensive for me to produce.

It is the result of years of observing and testing the ingredients on myself. It is extremely safe and is regularly checked against her medication to make sure it does not clash with her current medication. It incorporates traditional ingredients from all over the world related to the brain in addition to a worthy boost in macro and micronutrients. She is currently getting around 1500 calories per day, and smooth transit is assured via a detox mechanism contained in the drink to dispose of unpleasant elements contained in anyone who has ever been on a ‘normal’ diet.

It replaces Ensure, a disgusting plastic food which the NHS has on contract, which supplies 250 calories from a mixture of salt, sugar and 24 vitamins and minerals (inclusive)

It is also sufficiently powerful to replace the double dose of Omeprazole, a drug which was leaching magnesium, causing pain,confusion and hallucinations. It has also saved her from unnecessary painkillers, which would have hastened her end.

Further, there is no need for the double dose of laxative which accompanied the 500 calories of Ensure supplied to allegedly sustain my mother from the hospital.

As my mother’s appetite recovers, she sometimes wants ice cream, which is supplied from the freezer in the form of a Cornetto, eggs, brioche or trout. She only wants to do this every second day, but this is OK because her nutritional needs are more than being met by taking three of her drinks per day. She is also getting around 8 portions of fruit and vegetables in her drinks, and I have discussed all of this with the dietician who called three weeks after her return from hospital on the off-chance that she was still alive. She was very happy with what I had to say. Likewise the doctor was extremely impressed with her blood test results.

If you don’t like or understand it, I frankly don’t care. She does, and she is doing very well on it.

In the event that you still have a problem, I suggest that you find a senior consultant nutritionist and ask them if they can come up with something remotely comparable that a 90 year old will readily tolerate. When they say no, feel free to drop dead of whatever unspeakable disease your ‘normal’ diet gave you.

I have made this sign for my kitchen, they are still trying to say there is something wrong with it. Her oedema is gone and she is now able to stand up.

Sigh

motivation

The Spineless Sadist

July 4, 2017 No Comments

The Spineless Sadist

Not all sadists are intrinsically dominant, cruel, and vicious like the tyrannical and enforcing subtypes. Some are deeply insecure, even cowardly. Spineless sadists are a combination of the avoidant and sadistic personalities; their private world is peopled by aggressive and powerful enemies. Attack can only be forestalled by creating an image of strength, a sense of mutual ensured destruction. For spineless sadists, aggressive hostility is a counterphobic act, designed to master their own inner fearfulness, while sending a message of strength to the public that they will not be intimidated. Displays of courage serve to divert and impress the audience with a façade of potency that says, “I will not be pushed around.” Neither naturally mean-spirited nor intrinsically violent, the spineless sadist caricatures the swaggering tough-guy or petty tyrant. Having been repeatedly subject to physical brutality and intimidation, these individuals have learned to employ aggression instrumentally against others who seem threatening and abusive. Fearful of real danger, they strike first, hoping to induce a measure of fearfulness that forestalls further antagonisms. Many spineless sadists join groups that search for a shared scapegoat, a people or ethnic population set aside by the majority culture as a receptacle for hate and prejudice.

ALPFmedical on the sadistic personality

This is where your endless investigation of the world comes in handy. If someone is trying to frighten you for no apparent reason, you have tools to deal with it.

Then you can get on with the rest of your life, rather than blaming yourself for shit that isn’t your fault. He is also married, by the way. Rather her than me. He just destroyed my prospects because he is married and a practised liar, by all accounts.

Sick Freak

health

The NHS, Social Work and Nutrition

June 30, 2017 3 Comments

The NHS, Social Work and Nutrition

Well, my experience so far with the drama surrounding my mother’s apparently revolutionary diet has been very poor.

The assigned social worker, after I spent some time explaining to her how the diet worked, went behind my back to yet another set of nurses to try to generate some ‘concerns’ about my mother’s diet, which has so far.

caused her to re-engage with the TV for the first time in over a year,
her oedema, which she had had for five years is now gone,
a pressure sore which the NHS had told me would take over 8 months to clear up has now vanished,
and her GP has gushed over her blood test results as her white cell count has improved markedly in a very short space of time.
She is well on the way to being able to stand up from being unable to move at all

My mother is getting well, and the social work department DOES NOT LIKE IT AT ALL, and is trying to engage the NHS in fighting off this dangerous nutritional revolution.

On leaving hospital, she was prescribed 2 bottles of Ensure, a double dose of laxative and a double dose of antacid, which was listed as causing inflammation (how any drug company managed to combine the qualities of antacid with pro-inflammation is a mystery – but it was clearly intended to cause sufficient pain to necessitate a painkiller, which I fought off as my mother has dementia)

So, today I looked up the nutritional properties of Ensure, as I am pig-sick of explaining the very well thought out diet to stupid people who presumably imagine that a plastic bottle with a label constitutes responsibility, whereas a freshly prepared, highly technical wholefood diet is sheer infamy.

Ensure, and you can check out more details from the livestrong website, consists of sugar, salt and a few vitamin chemicals. In its basic form it supplies 250 calories per 8oz bottle, all of them bad calories from bad sources such as soy, sugar and anything non natural and cheap that they can get their hands on. Potential side effects include constipation, diahorrea and heart palpitations. It is not a good food, and no responsible person would give it to anybody. The NHS has a contract for it, and if you wish to stop using it, you are likely to have a fight on your hands. They were giving her 500 calories a day and expecting her to die, she now gets 1500 from me and is likely to live.

I was already in the bad books as I had dropped the antacid, which was causing pain and confusion, and had replaced all of the above with Supermix, which I make at home from a plethora of natural ingredients and herbs which I spent years researching when I was a raw foodist.

Now, after explaining my mother’s diet at length to at least five different disapproving people, and after they have seen that she is gaining weight, an improved colour and regaining functionality, the social work department are agitating so-called professionals from the NHS in condemning my mother’s diet which consists of Supermix, 2-3 avocados, coconut cream, and another five or six portions of fruit and vegetables. Now that she has been doing this for a month, she is also regaining her appetite, and so she has a solid meal every day or so. Because I have alkalised her system, and because her diet is inherently easy to digest and pass, anti-inflammatory and antacid, she can now have one meal of almost anything when she wants it. Most of the time, however, she prefers supermix, which also contains a full spectrum of antioxidant therapy as part of the one-stop solution.

Apparently nutritional training in the NHS is so poor, that my explanations are not enough for these people. They have a salary, and therefore I am to consider them experts, even though they do not give a damn about my mother and had written her off as dying.

I apologised to the social worker for my mother’s wellness yesterday, and became quite irate at the system which apparently dictates that I am to be interrogated on an indefinite basis because they are too frightened to admit that the NHS is not good at everything. Personally, the only thing I rely on the NHS for is scanning, surgery and a small number of medications. Doctors are not all-knowing, nor are they particularly responsible and unless the social work department go out and find someone who has not been taught the holy bible of relying on substandard chemical based products to solve every problem, they are unlikely to get everything right.

Sadly, it may turn out that all my efforts are in vain, as the social work department are keen to get my mother incarcerated in a place who will supply her with all the chemicals they can pay for. They are gradually trying to insinuate themselves into my life in an effort to discredit me to achieve this, so all I can really do is carry on healing her and try to ignore what they are doing. They have now started to ingratiate themselves with my thieving family.

I said to the very young social worker this week that as I was the crutch that my mother leans on, and my siblings were the pickpockets waiting to pick over the carrion, their system seems a bit stupid and corrupt. I was assured that they need to get reports from a bunch of people who do not know or care about my mother in place of the evidence in front of them – that I do not want their help and my mother is getting well.

It is remarkable that people in rented accommodation and small houses struggle to get a social worker at all, and I, because my mother has a very nice house that I have taken great care of, am under gestapo levels of scrutiny simply for making her well. When I pointed it out to the social worker, he seemed to think it was funny.

health

Dementia and diet

June 25, 2017 2 Comments

Since the initial success of my mother’s new regime, I have been investigating natural approaches to dealing with dementia.

Although she has physically improved, she is childlike and mischievous, which is likely to cause more problems, although I am glad her condition generally is much improved.

So, this weekend I have been studying approaches to dementia, to see if there is anything I can tweak to improve her mental state.

Obviously, over the sundowning years, I had cause to use valerian a couple of times, although over the last ten years medical thinking has come around to my way of seeing it and you are now given miniscule doses of diazapam rather than chemical coshing, at least with responsible doctors. Up until now, there was little I could do about her diet, which was not great as she had always been able to eat pretty much what she wanted, unlike me. If I ate like my mother, I would be even more ill than I usually am.

Anyway, as I have outlined, she is on a super-comprehensive vitamin, mineral, antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, antacid, alkaline diet at the moment, so when I saw that medium chain fatty acids could potentially reverse her dementia, I was immediately interested and sought out exogenous keto products to see if I could check this out, with a view to her taking on a diet more in line with mine.

After much searching, I finally found a product that can put her in ketosis instantly, and which does not cost a fortune. There is a small hazard of the product being a bit acidic, but I think if it reverses her memory problem it is worth trying once. I was a low carber long before I tried raw and explored other health options so it is not difficult to come up with a plan.

Then I had a look at the counter arguments, which basically consist of her diet already being optimal. Taking her heart and arterial problems into account, she could not be on a better diet than she is currently. Are medium chain fatty acids and ketosis worth the risk?

It really depends on how long you want to live and how much you want to remember. If you want a shorter life, in which you remember more, then go for the low carb option. It is still possible to do this as a vegan or plant based eater. If you have heart or artery problems however, it is probably advisable to hedge your bets and go for high antioxidants and perhaps a teaspoon of MCT oil rather than the two tablespoons of coconut oil advised by those who have experimented with diet as a method of helping loved ones with dementia.

I will try the exogenous product and see if I see some improvement over a three hour period. If so, then she will be living on nuts, seeds, berries and vegetables, which I have done and which is perfectly reasonable. The tricky part will be maintaining her weight on a ketogenic diet, especially once the exercise programme is in full swing. If it doesn’t work, then it is a very simple case of giving her a nice fruity drink.

Basically, the important thing to learn here is that you mustn’t jump on every bandwagon without checking the counter arguments. Low carbing for my mother is not the best option for her heart.

So – long life or sharp brain? Which is best in this case?

health

Proof of your raw diet and superfood habit

June 17, 2017 No Comments

This week, I had an NHS nurse becoming irate because Supermix and the raw diet has healed my mother’s stage 4 pressure sore. It seems to be working on one problem at a time, and this week it decided to heal my mother’s foot before it did anything else.

The first thing it did was work on my my mother’s skin, which was like a teabag when she came out of hospital, thin and full of holes. My friend, who is a retired nurse, topically treated it with a common emollient in addition to her diet. As a result she is still under all the rules for fragile skin, despite having healed serious bruising from the canula in hospital and having been given sufficient nutrition to ensure that her skin is now back to a glossy and healthy normal.

It then worked on her torso, and she is now moving spontaneously again for the first time in months. She was always very contemptuous of my raw diet, so it is particularly ironic that it is now the only food she can tolerate, and that it is making such a difference.

Towards the end of week two of supermix and a raw diet, she talked about her brother in the past tense for the first time in nine years. Whilst we are not seeing huge progress mentally quite yet, she is now capable of pulling herself from lying down to a seated position and completing any exercises I give her.

So, now, with the help of my friend, we are restoring her contact with her legs. Supermix, has, however decided to target her feet and lower legs first, so we still have one wasted thigh to restore to its proper size.

We mentioned the sore to this nurse, who told us to leave it alone as it could not be debrided outside hospital and must be left for months. Two days after talking about it, the necrotic tissue vanished by itself. She is literally self-repairing from the inside out, and the NHS, according to this nurse, do not like or believe it.

To the credit of our doctor, I received a phone call this week almost as if she were talking to a colleague. She had received my mother’s blood test results, taken because I had taken her off three unnecessary and harmful medications and replaced them with Supermix. She did not need disgusting replacement food because supermix is better. Once on that, she did not require a laxative or a surgical grade antacid which was causing pain and confusion.

The row started because I refused to allow painkillers for her problem legs, which were wasting due to neglect in hospital. (contracture) I have now isolated the wastage to the right leg via massage, and we are performing massage and stretching to restore her communication with her legs.

All of this is time consuming and requires knowledge that apparently the NHS does not rate. I am supposed to be a bad carer, because I did not listen to people who wanted to over-medicate and basically sedate my mother to death.

When the blood test results came in, I told the irate nurse. I wasn’t triumphant about it at all. My mother is undergoing full spectrum antioxidant therapy with supported mineral and vitamin enhancements thanks to wholefood solutions as a result of Supermix, and there is no point in trying to explain this to someone who is trained to administer commercial medicine. My mother’s results are apparently spectacular enough to shock the doctor.

So, evidently all these people who cry ‘Wolfe’ about science, and how health promoters are just trying to sell product, are likely to lose their relatives to conventional medicine and its many failings.

Shit happens.

games, health

A crippling workload

June 15, 2017 No Comments

A crippling workload

Hurrah, the posts from 2016 were unexpectedly being stored on Goodreads, and so I am replenishing the new site with the old posts. If you are interested, you can now scroll back for a year so far, but as there are so many posts, I don’t think I can do them all in one night.

As regular readers will know, the furniture collection has been very expensive to produce, which has caused major hold ups. I am seeking a contract or two to finish off the first few pieces, so that I can get on with Lucifer Ogilvie.

In addition, complications regarding my mother have meant that I am unable to do as much work as I have in the past, it is now turning into a huge legal conundrum which I am strangely unphased by. So far, I have had to sit in a room full of people who have either already lied, or are in the process of lying because I am such a horrible person for taking care of my mother and avoiding people.

What is most irritating about this, is that people who don’t actually know what has been said or done are now jumping on the opposing bandwagon on the assumption that I have somehow forced a career driven carer to lie about my mother, and a pair of vile nurses to assume that because I am very polite, I am also a pushover. Imagine their surprise when I chased them from the house shrieking thank you, thank you!

Anyway, for the raw foodies watching this saga, my mother now has proper arms again, and I am working on reinflating her legs after the concentration camp style nutrition in hospital. She is not hugely conversational at the moment, but as you all know, detox involves a lot of sleeping. I am restretching her muscles at the moment as she was suffering from contracture.

According to the vile nurses and her doctor, this means crushing her legs even more and drugging her so that you don’t hear her scream in pain as her muscles waste. Instead her legs are gently being stretched with a fierce rub of menthol to restore her muscles in much the same way her arms have responded. At 90, she has in three weeks recovered her ability to sit up by herself, so I look forward to seeing how these legs turn out when they are done.

The NHS seem to be genuinely offended by her recovery, which is most upsetting. Not quite as upsetting as her absent children’s wish to kill her in a care home. Yes, looking after her is blisteringly hard work. No, I do not begrudge it, although I certainly should given the family dynamic she set up in advance of her dotage.

Anyway, I am thinking I should get on with the shoe collection to pay for more resin, and I need to work on the computer games.

Toodle pip,

Ina

motivation

Helping is better than being helped

June 4, 2017 No Comments

Helping is better than being helped

My mother is now bed bound because someone who has never even met her decided that her perfectly adequate chair was unsuitable for her. Now someone else who has never met her is supposed to come around to the house to determine whether the chair is suitable, until then she is trapped in her bed.

This is because the consultant, who has never met me, decided that my mother was too heavy for me to carry and decided to force me to accept help from teams of carers, who are not willing to take the health and safety risk of putting her in a chair on the days that she is well enough. On top of this, she is to spend all day in a position which makes it easier for them to change her when they come in, which hurts her back.

Today I caught one of them asking if she would not prefer to be eating rolls and sausage than her raw diet. She can do this if she wants, but if she does she will have to be put back on the surgical grade antacid and the laxative, she will be in further pain which warrants a painkiller, and she will be confused because the medication does that. When I explained this to my mother, she decided she would rather continue on her raw diet.

When a hostile nurse explained to me that every decision was now to go through social work, I declined any further input. Why are we having ten people involved, when my mother has previously done very well with only one person, I asked? She immediately became very frightened and did not answer.

The bottom line is, because I have had help forced on me, my mother’s quality of life has actually declined and we are at constant risk of input from morons who don’t actually care about her well being any more than they care about mine. I object to this, and I object to 14 hours of my day revolving around sitting waiting for people I do not want to see.

This was only one of the bits of interference that annoyed me this week. The other one was from my friend, who again tried to joke about bringing cake to my house when I was miserable about Wolfe and struggling. He apparently doesn’t know about boundaries, so I have had to explain this, in a variety of ways, ever since.

Why it would not be perfectly simple to do what a person asks in their home I do not know, but apparently he is a bit thick in this respect.

So this time I got really annoyed.

Am I the only person that can see that having to physically eject someone from my home for bringing and offering cake repeatedly when I ask him not to is a bit ridiculous? He even suggested that my objection somehow deprived my mother, and said he would do what he liked in my home. I am not sure why this is a difficult issue for him. If I don’t want your cake in my home, you don’t bring cake, surely?

It is not the actions of a friend to try to sabotage your life. When people do things like this, they are actively trying to damage you. I have explained this to him time and time again. He refuses to understand, and apparently refused to recognise that I ought to be able to set the rules in my home.

I am constantly under attack, the last thing I need is more bullshit from someone pretending to visit me in order to damage my health via my mother.

Anyway, at the time I cried. He thought this was hilarious, and it is unlikely that he is ever going to explain why he thinks damaging me is a good idea, since he has tried it so often. Being alone sucks.

health, motivation

90 year old is now a raw foodist

May 31, 2017 2 Comments

90 year old is now a raw foodist

My mother returned from hospital dehydrated, sleepy, with a prescription for a double dose of ensure, which is a particularly horrible plastic food they like to give old people, a double dose of a surgical grade antacid to counteract the effects of an injection to dissolve her giant blood clot and a double dose of laxative. She had been on a saline drip which had caused her right arm to basically be one huge bruise. She lasted about two days before starting to sleep constantly again.

She has been back for about three weeks now. Yesterday I got a call from a dietician who had been assigned to her in hospital, who had now gotten around to actually dealing with her case. She seemed unsure if my mother was actually still alive, and referred to her as ‘being home for a short while.’ She asked when would be suitable to come around? That is what is best for my mother, after all.

“Actually” I said “I have been kind of passively studying herbalism and wellness for most of my life, and I have put her on a high calorie alkaline diet. She doesn’t need ensure, she doesn’t need laxatives, and she really doesn’t need the antacid, which in its description includes sore joints, confusion and a contraindication with her heart tablet. So we really don’t need you.”

“What is she eating?” the dietician seemed concerned.

“Raw chocolate, various grasses, a few seaweeds and some herbs. She also gets seven portions of fruit and vegetables a day. She has put on some weight, her skin problems have improved, she is alert, and she is no longer screwing herself up to the right. We are doing fine. She tried some porridge the other morning, but she really prefers what I am giving her.”

The dietician seemed dumbfounded. “Does she have a choice?” She tried to regain control of this dangerous situation.

Given that my mother had stopped eating altogether, this seemed a bit cheeky, so I salved her ego by prattling on about holistic treatment of dementia, and how my mother has not only surpassed the expected life expectancy by five years, but retained her capacity until very recently. She has always been rather dismissive of my health interest. She is really quite keen on it now that she is drinking a drink that tastes of salted caramel (today, tomorrow’s is cherry bakewell flavour) but actually contains a host of supernutrients and the optimum antioxidants possible, in addition to her seven a day.

My mother has improved by the day, to the point that memories from nine years ago that she has never acknowledged have returned, and she now asks for things and has regained her grip. All because I made a giant vat full of supermix when I was raw. It is the best four hundred I have ever spent.

Supermix has 80 ingredients, a mixture of Wolfe suggestions and old European remedies. I really made it for me, since she didn’t like the idea of health food, and when I lived on it for 5 weeks my very grumpy neighbour told me it was the best I had ever looked. Evidently I did something right.

My friend, who was also disparaging about my brief healthy period, is now building up his own supermix, and I am in the process of discarding the ‘normal’ food and trying to regain my former glow.

It just goes to show, when people ignore what you are saying, belittle your attempts to take care of yourself when you are taking care of others, and participate in their own bullshit, you really should just shut the door and get on with it, because usually, you are right.

business, creativity, motivation

Introduction to Ina

May 26, 2017 3 Comments

Introduction to Ina

This week, I decided to launch myself a bit more seriously, in preparation for the finished Boris pieces, which I think are the start of a more revealing art period. Several of the sites would like me to write a regular blog, and so here is your handy introduction to Ina Disguise.

My father, also an artist, always advised me to do anything but art, since producing artwork for money is not the happiest of experiences if you like to express anything. Therefore, his reasoning was avoid art in order to produce better art. This led to my becoming a habitual over worker, as I took him at his word and worked every hour I could to avoid doing any artwork for many years.

Ina Disguise came about as a result of my inability to have a conversation with David Wolfe, a natural health promoter that I wanted to talk to about some academic work I was doing on eco-economics, marketing and behavioural economics. I managed to connect with him briefly on a few websites, but he only seemed to want to talk trash and pretend to himself that he is very clever. I am not sure why he does this, because apart from his lousy writing and a murky past, he actually is very clever.

As my family were trying to use abusing me as an excuse to rob their own mother, this came as the last straw and I became very unhappy, despite having just lost about 160lb and looking unusually hot that year. Therefore, after spending several months fighting off the urge to eat myself into oblivion, I started sewing, which is a habit I had previously formed whilst avoiding horrible and hurtful people and recovering from failed love affairs. If you cannot have the relationship, you might as well have a nice carpet out of your misdirected emotions.

Since he had blocked me from actually speaking to him, after it transpired that I was unusual in seeing through his many disguises online, I then wrote Best Scandal Ever in an effort to appease and inform him why I was buttering him up in the first place. Best Romance Ever followed, and, since I am of the opinion that keeping one’s brain balanced is rather important, I spent the time that I was not writing doing a lot more stitching.

I had previously amassed art materials with every spare penny from every job I had had since being told that I had to give up everything for my parents as nobody else in the family would ever be willing to do it. Currently two of them are sitting idle with pensions whilst I am unable to earn my own.

Anyway, within a year of putting my work out in public, GQ had got in touch, which has been an enormous encouragement, and my work has now been in Tatler several times, and last month I realised an early ambition and managed to get a spot in World of Interiors. I cannot tell you how much the girls from these magazines have helped me at what has been a very rough and ego bashing time.

So now I work in batches, usually five or six pieces at a time, and I have released several batches over the last four years, with varying results. Some of the pieces are more popular with other people than me, but my experiments have taught me a lot. Scale is a great tutor, as is ensuring that you are spoilt for stock volume in raw materials. As with writing, the ideas you would like to have only come when you have indulged the ideas you initially think are merely basic.

Wolfe taught me a lot about marketing, allowing yourself to express even the most rudimentary ideas, on the basis that most people cannot manage that and will show some interest anyway. There is simply no point in waiting until you are good enough, because if you don’t practise and attempt things, you don’t develop the stamina, skill and confidence to get to the good stuff. One of my pieces, Raw Sex Object, took seven years to complete, and I am not even interested in selling it because it is really a giant sampler.

Anyway, Wolfe has never understood that I am not trying to kill his career, and I cannot be bothered explaining it to him, so I have now embarked on the Boris adventure, as I perceive Boris to be a far more settled and confident person who might actually appreciate my amusing coded communication skills. I shall lavish attention on poor Boris until I presumably focus on a very serious person, such as the Pope. In the meantime, enjoy the artwork.

Ina

politics

All about Boris

May 25, 2017 4 Comments

The Mayor Boris Johnson in Croydon, South London, Tuesday November 22, 2011. Photo by Andrew Parsons/ Parsons Media

richardbunning

2d ago

Interviewed him for a TV current affairs research job in the 1980s.

My notes say he was a shallow, egocentric upper class twit who I would not trust to go to the loo on his own.

Johnson is typical of the upper class boot boys of his era. Unprincipled, self serving and arrogant beyond belief. Bullington boys with enough money to buy their way out of the trouble they caused, wrecking restaurants, indecently assaulting women passers by and using threatening and abusive behaviour that would get us plebs locked up.

Don’t laugh at Boris,give him he hatred he and his list boy friends warrant.

OK – I have a problem with this comment on a number of levels – the first one being that neither Stanley nor Boris are genuinely upper class. Boris is more aware of this than his sister, which is why he has perfected his presentation skills to the point that he remains likeable and relatively honest for a Tory.

Having experienced Rachel, who works hard at not understanding how the other half live, Boris is a deceptively responsible person when compared with Stanley, whose luck in life is matched only by a psychotic libido. Yes, he has polished a public act called Boris, but no, I cannot agree that he is a standard Bullingdon boot boy, especially as he avoided actually doing anything with the club as he did not like forking out cash for destroying people’s businesses and getting pissed.

In fact, Boris is a scholarship boy, spurred on by sibling rivalry, and Stanley is the son of a farmer. A farmer who lost his farm because Stanley’s dreams and opportunities lay elsewhere. To suggest that they are merely upper class twits would be a gross underestimation of their social skills. Actually, they are fairly ordinary Somerset farmers who are now doing something else.

I rather like this mischief. The idea of having a trademark manner and hairstyle which renders you memorable, combined with the arch observation skills necessary to pull such social mobility off with aplomb, appeals to me enormously.

Currently, Boris sees his role as distraction. As long as you are watching Boris, you aren’t watching boring old Phillip Hammond or Theresa May. Who remembers a single thing Hammond did as foreign secretary? Exactly. He is no great shakes as a chancellor either, but they are all very rich.

Boris is guilty of flippancy and he is guilty of not taking politics terribly seriously, but this is why he presents a good antidote to the massively grim notion of Conservative rule. He is also providing himself with sufficiently great publicity never to have to worry about selling a book. If he decided not to bother going to work tomorrow, I have no doubt that he would not want for money.

This is not to say that Boris is always nice. Plainly this is not so, but again who really wants to look much further than the entertaining front? Stanley is very good at this wall of distraction too, which makes it easy for them to deceive when necessary.

To conclude, insulting someone on the basis of class is snobbery, whether you are looking up or down. One chooses one’s persona to a great degree, exemplified by my being considerably posher than my siblings. This sounds like I am acting, especially as I went to a horrid school and my siblings all went private. I can tell you that it is not an act at all, I, like Boris spent two years from ten to twelve avariciously reading Wodehouse. It is an imprint which does not leave you. (I can tell you that it is no advantage at all when you live in Glasgow and have an infamous leader from Red Clydeside as an ancestor)

Boris’s carpet is in the final stages, but I would like to present it with the first of the furniture collection, Bordello Rhetoric, as they represent both Boris and Al. As ever, these are made as gifts, but should Boris not wish to pick up his presents, they will be put out for sale in due course. Once I have the shoes and the furniture complete, I will commence work on Lucifer Ogilvie.

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