Pandora
The inexorable rise of Tom Bursnall, controversial Chair of Conservative Future, scary young Hague-a-like and ever-obliging darling of these pages, seems to have hit an obstacle. Some CF pundits, apparently, had their money on Tory Boy as a dead cert to do a Billy and become Conservative Head Boy before his 21st birthday. But recent revelations have somewhat shaken this assertion. "Any old man can drink 14 pints, but whether they can still put a sentence together is another thing," a sober Bursnall recently confessed. "I start to wobble and shake after several beers, and probably couldn't stomach 14." How sweet: a student who can't hold his liquor. Perhaps Mummy's little ray of sunshine's just not destined for Tory greatness, after all.
SPEAKING OF which, anyone would think that Tom isn't grateful for the thoughtful mentions he has received here in recent months. Tory Boy, who first won Pandora's heart when an e-mail emanating from his account adumbrated some harsh views on homosexuality, has ensured his regular appearances with equally entertaining behaviour ever since. But a questionnaire drafted by Tom and sent to young voters suggests he's developing an unhealthy paranoia about his continuing fame. Among inquiries on the issues of the day, a sectionette is devoted to leading questions such as: "Do newspapers have too much control or influence?"; "Should there be a privacy bill to stop newspapers intruding into people's lives?" and "Had you heard of Conservative Future before you received this questionnaire?" One respondent clearly had; the first rude reply came from a member of Young Labour who was apparently rather startled to be asked.
On the other side of the political fence, The Tribune Guide to the Labour Party Conference reveals some decisive semantics over at Unison. A fringe meeting held by the union on Wednesday 27 September at the Old Ship Hotel is simply entitled: "Purge". Rodney Bickerstaff, outgoing Unison General Secretary, is something of a hammer of the left, but surely this is going a bit far?
IN AN intrepid bid to make publishing history, and sell more books, Frederick Forsyth has boldly gone online with his latest short story collection, Quintet. What is less widely known about the daring venture is that old Freddie, despite being wildly enthusiastic about the whole concept, still writes everything on an old fashioned sit- up-and-beg typewriter and cheerfully jokes about his lack of technological know-how. He's apparently rather fond of the one about the man who took his word processor back to the shop, only to be asked why there was so much Tippex on the screen.
Online book-lovers with a collection of carrier bags should look after them, if a recent ebay.com sale is any guide. A "boldly signed" Bloomsbury first edition of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was auctioned there recently, the winning bid being a none too shabby pounds 325. The book was offered complete with the golden ticket to join the queue for JK Rowling's signature, as well as a "stapled yellow leaflet promoting the event and a Booke etc. [sic] carrier bag as further authentication". Given that an unsigned first edition was languishing at around the pounds 15 mark elsewhere on the site, this begs the question: how does the pounds 325 break down? If the book itself accounts for just pounds 15 (a mere penny more than the cover price), how much is the autograph worth, how much the golden ticket and promotional leaflet and, most importantly, what price that "authentic" carrier bag?
IT'S NICE to know that the publishing world is as up to date as ever. A copy of the September edition of The Briefing magazine has fallen into Pandora's hands. Was this, the official in-flight magazine of Concorde, written before the plane's August grounding? Or is there an office of hacks somewhere who haven't been let out for air long enough to find out the grim truth?