Tea Time Hippo. Things seem to be going from bad to worse to bloody ghastly. Now, don’t get me wrong, I never cared half a rotten fig for Roald Dahl. He was a mean little man and his stories were nasty, banal and predictable. But, as Voltaire never really said, I would go to the barricades to defend his right to say wherever he pleased, including writing about fat women or witches with wigs. And the rot is expanding, like a vulgar universe. It would seem that Prevent has a section, possibly called The Holier-Than-Thou Anglo-Saxon Inquisition, that is giving hints that Shakespeare, Orwell and, yes, you heard it right, poor old Huxley (Aldous, that is) should be either expurgated or actually altogether excised from schools curricula in case they might “radicalize” students. And I’m not even getting started with the one about the C. of E. considering changing the Lord’s Prayer pronouns! (What it’ll be, then? Our Parent, who might or might not be in A Very Safe Place…etc?) The mind boggles. So, rather than lose the will to live, I’m taking my big fat bloody foreigner’s female ass to have tea with the Ultra Hippo and his pal the Graphically Modified Clipart Teddy. I don’t much care for tea but they are very kind and they always have coffee at the ready for yours truly. That’s what I call true tolerance. Have a spiffing week.
