At first the title irked. It felt like a glib Richmal Crompton reference, promising a jolly jape guide to Boris Johnson and all those larks people seem to love him for, whilst offering nothing solid. How wrong. Just Boris is a very clever title for a book offering reams of evidence and which doesn't shy away from the boot and putting it in. And yet, despite Sonia Purnell's considerable craft and skill, she admits herself as author that Boris remains strangely out of reach.

Just Boris. He's usually called just Boris. No surname. It's just Boris: a usual shrug forgiving his latest gaffe or infidelity. Just Boris: he's a bit of a loner, without a political gang or indeed ally outside his family. Or, perhaps most damning from Sonia Purnell, just Boris may be the man's political philosophy. His political career is just for him. He does apparently harbour the ambition, indeed the destiny, that just Boris will be primus inter pares.

The simple fact is that Boris Johnson simply isn't who he seems. He ruffles his hair before the camera rolls or shuts. His first name is Alexander, and his family and wife call him Al. The chimera Boris emerged at Eton and was honed at Oxford. He is hardly that posh or aristocratic, his family are neither devastatingly rich by any Etonian standard and he is also not necessarily as clever as many people assume, despite the constant classical references. His particular skill seems to be provocation.

Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson was born in New York, had a peripatetic childhood and his parents divorced when they lived in Belgium. His mother is American, there is a strong Turkish vibe in his lineage and his wife is half Indian. His father claims to be “dogged” by good luck. The question that Purnell keeps asking is right: Who the hell is this man and what does he want?

The books swings elegantly through his time with the Times (he got sacked for faking a quote), the Telegraph (where he was famed for tardiness) and through to his tenure as editor of the Spectator.

His time as an MP for Henley and campaign for the Mayoralty are examined forensically. In fact, maybe too much. This is a big book. His affairs and misbehaviours are manifold and major. But yet Boris just bounces back again and again and became the most powerful Conservative in Britain, for a while.

The most damning criticism is levelled at Mayor Boris. That he just really isn't very good at the job ought to stick. His achievements are sparse. And yet it seems likely he will be re-elected, whilst still harbouring none too secret ambitions to lead the Tories and be PM.

Just Boris is an addictive book that stirs nothing but disquiet. How has he slipped through the net? He gets away with everything and seems to suffer little scrutiny. There is no “just” about Boris.

Eton College

It's easy to make a political argument that private schools shouldn't be allowed to run state schools with taxpayers' money. That's not my beef today. My concern is much more managerial: Eton is not qualified, on a practical level.

Eton has it easy. The pupils want to learn and parents are supportive. Eton's a selective single-sex boarding school. Most boys go on to university, many to Oxbridge. Parents pony up £30k a year and their sons know it. Eton might look old-fashioned: outsiders see tail suits and exquisite architecture. But it's a bustling meritocracy, a hive of independent activity and pupils want to do well.

It is a remarkable place. Energetic, diligent and focussed on excellence. They learn Chinese and Arabic alongside Latin and Classics. Eton is based on the idea that everyone there must be good at something. Be that sport, study, music, drama, art or just being a bloody good bloke.

To a great extent, discipline comes from the boys themselves. Eton is not totalitarian these days and prefers carrots to sticks. Most boys want to succeed and so they work hard and play within the (none too onerous, but often absurd) rules.

I can't say the same for my time in the state sector. I recall students who simply didn't want to be there. Their aspirations had not been nurtured, they didn't have broad horizons and they would not cooperate. It's a tragedy that it is sometimes easier to let those kids find their low level. Every state school struggles with that dilemma. And Eton doesn't have an answer to dealing with those kids. It doesn't know they even exist.

Teachers at Eton have a standing start. The pupils want to participate. The men and women teachers, beaks, at Eton are learned and distinguished, dedicated and talented. But, and I mean this in no way uncharitably, they have a willing crowd. And I bet the remuneration isn't too shabby either.

When I think of the many good teachers I had in the state sector, few would have had trouble teaching at Eton. And then I consider my Eton beaks. Not that many (indeed very few), would prosper in a state school. Hardly a surprise when the teacher to boy ratio at Eton is 1/9. They would have no idea what to do with a genuine under-performer in need of help, a violent troublemaker or indeed the real rough and tumble of a truly, unruly class intent on chaos. And anyway, if those beaks wanted to teach in the state sector, they would surely have chosen that path.

Most beaks aren't trained teachers. Staff in the private sector don't require a PGCE. So what right would an Eton beak have to tell qualified teachers what to do? I suspect most Eton staff could learn a great deal more from their state counterparts rather than vice versa.

And then there's the money. Eton is staggeringly rich. According to their own figures, the school's original foundation amounts to £200m and that provides 11% of Eton's annual income (but I suspect that Eton's total wealth is far greater than that). Full fees at Eton are £30k a year for boys without a scholarship. The school totals 1300 pupils. For a boy from a state school well pleased with £2000 from the Summer Fayre, this sounds like a lot of money.

But Eton wants more. A recent booklet from Eton says of the income from the original foundation: “this is not enough. An institution of Eton's standing should receive between two and four times as much support from its endowment.” I take this to mean that Eton thinks it needs close to £1bn in investments to keep ticking over. And remember, this is an institution with charitable status. Eton gets generous tax breaks from that.

How would this translate to running a state school? Would Eton give any money from it own enormous wealth? I doubt it. Eton's consideration of a school budget in the state sector would be like NASA realising it could only afford an Airfix kit.

The crux of why Eton shouldn't be allowed to run a state school lies with my heartfelt belief that I don't think they want to. The booklet I mentioned before was called “Keep Eton, Eton.” That is not the name of a manifesto for change. They have resisted the temptation since 1440, so why would it be on the agenda now? Self-interest. They'll do what it takes to retain the massive financial benefits they enjoy from their charitable status.

If Eton takes a state school on, it will be because it makes sense for the mothership. It's not for nothing that anything persists for nearly six centuries without a keen sense of self-preservation.

The clue is in the school's motto: Floreat Etona. Let Eton Flourish. If letting Eton flourish means taking on a state school or two to keep their privileged financial benefits, they will. But the motivation will not be a benevolent desire to run the best of state schools.

I fear that Cameron wants state schools that look like Eton. But without selection, well paided staff and oodles of cash, that's not possible. It's also not attractive. He should concentrate on replicating the most successful state schools we have by funding them properly. But he wouldn't understand that. He went to Eton.

Click on the image above to embiggen

Take a look for yourself. This is what Anders Behring Breivik bought on eBay, apparently.

The Telegraph is reporting that Norwegian terrorist and confessed murderer Anders Breivik bought some of his equipment and supplies on eBay.

They say he used the now suspended eBay ID andrewbrei. At least one seller will now be regretting that he called Breivik as "a nice fellow to deal with."

A quick look at this buying record does suggest that Anders Breivik was planning his attacks, months and months in advance.

What was he buying? See for yourself on the left. Some sulpher, plastic tubing, protective clothing, something that looks like a telescopic sight.

 The Telegraph says: "MI5 is thought to monitor eBay and other internet sites for individuals buying chemicals which can be used for terrorism."

I have no doubt. The Police certainly look at eBay for stolen goods. HMRC definitely keep an eye on the site. I would be very surprised if the security services don't do the same. eBay is very open.

My advice to anyone who wants to use eBay for any nefarious purpose? Think a bit. If you want to go under the radar, go to small offline retailers and use cash. And don't use your real name.

For a full screengrab of what Anders Breivik bought, with seller's IDs, that's here.

Anders Breivik's eBay feedback page uncropped, that's here.

I'm pleased that we have civil partnerships in Britain and I've been to more civil partnerships in the last 18 months than marriages. In every case, I have recently referred to those civil partnerships (fastidiously), as marriages.

I was in a pub recently (imagine) and I said that I was going to the wedding of two chap chums of mine a few weeks hence. My friend, in all seriousness, corrected me: "It's not a wedding, Dan. It's a civil partnership." He received short shrift.

But technically he is absolutely correct, of course. Civil partnerships were a sound political compromise. Gay marriage would have had a hard time in Parliament. Civil partnerships passed easily but left a thread hanging.

But as is typical, the people know best. Many people easily call a civil partnership ceremony, a "wedding." I tried for a while to say that I was going to see friends being "civilly partnered" in an attempt of celebration. I was out of tilt on that.

The civilly partnered boys and girls are happily "married" in common parlance. Everyone involved becomes a husband or a wife. Has anyone ever said at a party: "And you must meet Jo, Alex's civil partner." I have never heard it. Because it's utter nonsense. It lacks elegance more than anything.

Let language lead the way. It's time the law reflected what everyone means and says and sod the bishops (who shouldn't be in the House of Lords anyway). When we say marriage, I don't care whether it's a union between men, women, one of each, or frankly any other combination of two people that's possible. It's about love. It's time everyone was allowed to get married without people like me worrying about the verbiage. Not least because everyone is using the words anyway.

Let’s be clear: I think #hackgate could bring down David Cameron. And if he goes, I can’t really see how the Coalition persists. There would have to be a general election. Not least because the Tories want those Liberal seats they would inevitably gain.

Did anyone ever believe that the flimsy Coalition government had the scaffolding to last five years? Most Tories never wanted an arranged marriage of inconvenience. Not really. For the first year of the Conservative-led coalition, I suspect that Cameron has been, half-heartedly, dismissing those fusty grandees telling him to force the hands of the Liberals.

“Give Cable or Huhne a reason to resign on a point of principle”, I imagined a desiccated Tory saying over a big brandy. “Make them murder this coalition and let’s go to the country and get a Conservative mandate and destroy the LibDems while we’re at it.” They like shooting things, these Tories. They also like metaphors almost as much as me. “Let’s kill two birds with one stone.” Pull!

And until #hackgate came along, there was a strong case for a snap election from a Conservative perspective. A general election in May or June this year would have delivered a majority Conservative government. The Liberals would have been eliminated and the Tories would have taken the majority of their commons seats. Clegg would almost certainly have lost Sheffield Hallam.

Labour would not have made amazing gains in that poll. Labour has been weak for too long. Ed Miliband was still wearing armbands and dipping his toes in the little pool until a few weeks ago. But that’s not true anymore. He’s dog-paddling now (without great skill but decided determination) towards the deep end. The Tories would not barnstorm an election, if it was held this Thursday. But Cameron is at least a strong swimmer, with badges sewn on to his trunks and everything.

Cameron’s pathological lack of substance has been revealed but that isn’t because of Miliband. Cameron looks like he’s made bad decisions and he has yet to seize the initiative or offer a plausible explanation. I think most right-thinking folk could have told him this at the time: he should never have hired Andy Coulson.

Miliband’s next target must be David Cameron. Forget Murdochs various as the bogeymen. Tom Watson and Nick Davies are doing that bit better. Do what has to be done by any Leader of the Opposition: attack the Prime Minister and the government. And keep attacking. And after the attack. Do it again. And again. And just for good measure, keep attacking.

We need to know what David Cameron’s knowledge of Andy Coulson’s involvement phone hacking was. Until we know that, we can’t call for Cameron’s resignation. But I can’t help think the Prime Minister is incredibly vulnerable. And possibly still holding the smoking gun.

There are only two well-worn questions that Ed Miliband needs to keep asking:

“What did the Prime Minister know? And when did he know it?”

So instead here are the buzzers. Every candidate knocks on doors and Regency ward is tougher than most. So many shared front doors and difficult to access blocks. Next time (next time?) give me rows of identical terraces and front doors with people behind them. I started taking pictures of buzzers whilst waiting for people to answer them. Which is silly, because I am certain pictures of knockers would have has greater SEO benefit. I saw some lovely knockers.

More buzzers on Flickr.

The good news first

Firstly, yesterday saw some very good news for Brighton and Hove. The Green and Labour groups (and a few stragglers) managed to make some very serious amendments to the Conservative council’s budget. Not least we saw a reversal of the council’s proposal to reduce council tax by 1%, reduce parking permit fees by 5% and also scrapped a £1.1m plan to remove a cycle lane in Hove that was only introduced three years ago. That’s about £2.7m that stays in the budget. These various amendments squeaked through, because the council is very finely balanced even if Greens and Labour cooperate. That cross-party cooperation is cause for optimism.

Options and risks

Then the amended budget faced a vote last night. Labour abstained, Greens voted against. And as a result of Tory support it passed. The amended budget was preferable but still included serious Tory cuts, many of which I fear are inevitable in the current political climate.

Other options were available. Labour could have a voted against too and (most likely) defeated the whole budget including the good amendments. That would mean that next week, another budget council would sit and have to agree a budget all over again, starting from scratch. The Green argument is that we could cooperate again and get more of what we want. I agree that’s possible. But it’s risky. There’s no guarantee that Labour and Green groups could spend a week or so and find consensus again on a whole host of things. A week is a long time in politics. The arguments we’ve seen online since the vote show that our parties are still on the first date when it comes to forming an ongoing, trusting relationship.

There are other risks too. The Conservatives could have proposed a different budget next week. A worse budget. One which the opposition could spend time amending back into what we’ve got now at great effort. To West Wing fans, I’d call this “doing a Haffley”. Possible, but perhaps unlikely.

Risk 3. A deal could be struck. The council is finely balanced. Those canny Tories could call off the one Liberal and one independent councillor with some sort of inducement which would make the numbers very tight. They could also, conceivably, offer a deal to the Greens or Labour. The budget would be settled in those no longer smoke-filled rooms. Not ideal.

So, the way I see it, we could end up with a budget next week that’s “better” or pretty much the same as the one that passed yesterday. Or worse, you could end with a more debilitating budget or indeed no budget at all.

The real pickle

No budget at all? That’s when it becomes very serious. In such a situation, that nice Mr Pickles from the Communities department sends his civil servants down and they impose a budget upon the city. No votes. No amendments. No deals. And who knows what that would look like? Even the Greens recognised at their national conference last week that passing a budget is a council’s (and councillors’) legal responsibility.

Abstaining offered an imperfect solution. But it does strike me that it’s better to set a budget with these excellent amendments, than risk something worse. Not least, because this isn’t the end of the process. Roll on May and the city council elections. The voters willing, we’ll see a Green and Labour coalition in City Hall that can propose and pass an equitable budget without all the rather depressing process and party positioning that the current situation makes sadly inevitable. Also, and I do think we have to accept this fact, the Conservatives are currently the biggest group on the city council by far right now. They have, in a sense, the right to set the tone of the budget and they like cuts.

Future less imperfect

I appreciate why the Greens voted against and I also undertand why Labour abstained: but neither action offered a perfect solution. I agree with the pragmatists. A budget has to be set and it was. Energy spent in recrimination and blame would be better saved for campaigning to defeat as many Conservatives as possible at the ballot box in a few weeks time because until then we’re always trying to treat the symptoms rather than find a cure for the cause.

Disclosure: I am a member of the Labour party and a candidate for the city council elections in May for Regency ward. I was not privy to or part of Labour group discussions that led to the decisions they made.

photo credit: Elsie esq.

(A little guest post I did for someone else as a favour. Shameless recycling)

The prize for the worst Royal Wedding ever could easily go to the man who would become George IV. He was Prince of Wales at the time and later Regent. George married his first cousin, Caroline of Brunswick, in 1795. It was not a love match. George expected his massive debts to be cleared by Parliament in return for a legitimate marriage and heir. The whole thing was doomed from the start.

George was a flirt and a philanderer. He’d previously ‘married’ an older widow called Maria Fitzherbert in a bizarre ceremony without his father’s permission. Mrs Fitzherbert was a Catholic, so the marriage could never have been legally recognised.

George and Caroline’s first meeting set the inauspicious tone for a union that ended with separation within months. Unlike Prince William admiring Kate Middleton’s beauty on the catwalk at St Andrew’s University, George was appalled by his future bride when he first saw her in the flesh.

Introduced at St James’s Palace on April 5th 1795, he managed to embrace her briefly and then, saying not a word, retreated to his private apartments. He asked a courtier in despair: “I am not well; pray get me a glass of brandy.” Caroline was equally unimpressed by her fiancé. She thought him very fat and not at all like his portrait.

The Prince’s love of drink was also evident three days later at the Royal Wedding. He told his brother William (the Duke of Clarence and later William IV), that Mrs Fitzherbert “is the only woman I shall ever love” as he went to the ceremony. Witnesses say he was clearly drunk at the wedding and, quite literally, supported by the Dukes of Bedford and Roxburghe as he took his vows. At one point, George rose confused during prayers to leave.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Most Reverend John Moore, presided and he made his own concerns about the marriage implicitly clear as he conducted proceedings. He paused purposefully and laid down his book and looked, directly at George III and his eldest son, when he asked whether there was any just cause or impediment why the marriage shouldn’t proceed. His Grace was concerned about the canonical implications of the Prince’s previous ‘sham marriage’ which had been conducted by an Anglican priest.

Observers commented that the Prince and his new bride barely spoke as they walked up the aisle as man and wife. Caroline apparently asked her new husband more than once as they left the Chapel Royal: “What is the matter, my Prince? You have such a sad face on.”

The wedding night was a further disappointment. She said that he “passed the greatest part of his bridal night under the grate, where he fell, and where I left him.” Yes. George collapsed drunk in the fireplace on the day he was married. It’s something close to a miracle that Caroline gave birth to Princess Charlotte in January the following year, little more than 9 months later. Even so, the marriage was a total disaster and when George ascended to the throne in 1820, Queen Caroline was barred from their Coronation.
photo credit: Leonski

It looks like there will be a bit of a discussion about how Labour elects its leader in the next few weeks, especially if Ed Miliband wins. I don’t propose to explain it (not least because I’d get something wrong) but you probably know the basics: three electoral colleges (MPs/MSPs/MEPS. Labour rank and file, the unions and socialist societies) using an AV transferable eliminating ballot.

To get ahead of the debate I want to make two small, relatively arcane points I haven’t heard much about. For the record, I think we need to look at changing the system, in particular the size of the elected members’ influence seems excessive. The New Statesman has a good piece noting that “the vote of one MP is worth the votes of 608 party members and 12,915 affiliated members. The vote of one party member is worth the votes of 21 affiliated members.”

But it’s a little more complex than that. An MP will have that ‘supervote’ but can also have a party member vote and likely a Trade Union vote or the like too. They can actually vote in all three of the electoral colleges.

Secondly, it is also actually possible to have multiple votes in a single electoral college. If, say, you were a Labour Student, part of LGBT Labour, in the Fabians and the Labour Animal Welfare Society, as well as being a member of an affiliated Trade Union, you’d actually have 5 votes in the third electoral college. Of course, these are diluted votes. But it doesn’t seem entirely right. I know plenty of people who have had 4 votes (and more) in the election.

Wasn't that interesting? Remember, you heard it here first.