This informative article ended up being posted when you look at the Spectator on 2 February 2002 by Boris Johnson, the new Foreign Secretary and previous editor regarding the mag.
You would require a heart of rock to not have been relocated by the little choristers that are aids-ridden. We sat under a mango tree, before a dancing-space of loaded earth that is red and just what a preposterous delegation we had been. There is Mr Rod Liddle, the top white chief associated with the Today programme, perhaps not looking especially kempt. There clearly was Vicky Scott of Unicef, and there was clearly your correspondent, addressed over over and over repeatedly by the pleasing title of ‘Mr Honourable Johnson’. And even as we sat inside our armchairs, as if at some durbar, the choir formed in a semi-circle before us: lots of small young ones in lacy, embroidered dresses. Their parents had been just about all dead, as well as on a few of the young ones you could start to see the tendons that are twin standing out at the back of the throat — an indicator that the condition is going to its close. At a sign from their instructor, they started initially to chant to your tune of ‘She’ll be coming round the mountain’: we have been pleased to get you, wel-o-come; we have been thrilled to get you, wel-o-come; we have been thrilled to get you, pleased to get you, very happy to get you, wel-o-comer chances are they danced, magically, perhaps the people who have been sick.
Theresa May’s brand new Cabinet tune in to Isabel Hardman, Fraser Nelson, James Forsyth and Colleen Graffy talk about the PM’s new appointments:
Trust me, you blush, you fat, white chiefs, at that sort of reception. You’re feeling embarrassed, and obscurely ashamed, which is that sense of pity i would like to confront. Continue reading “The Boris archive: Africa is in pretty bad shape, but we can’t blame colonialism”