Don't be vague...

Remember those Haig adverts? I haven't seen that stuff around in many years and I don't think I ever tried it.

This, however, is about a different type of Hague. Not even The Hague, just A Hague. Well, to be precise, W Hague.

I haven't commented on the allegations before because, quite frankly, I don't give a crap. The man is doing a job and as long as he's doing the job properly, I have no further interest.

It all reminded me of a story (I'm starting to sound like Grandpa Simpson. In many ways. I loved his comment in the car once - 'There sure are a lot of ugly people in your neighbourhood. Ooo, look at that one.' I'm saving that line for old age).

Anyway, the story. A friend of mine who is still in State-funded science told me of a whiny student who brought him a complaint about another student. She was angry that the other student (male) kept bringing his girlfriend to the house they shared and spending all night playing some kind of game that involved moaning and slapping sounds. She felt, very strongly, that Something Must Be Done.

On hearing this, my response was exactly the same as my friend's. 'Is it affecting his work?' It wasn't. No further action required. Miss Whiny was advised to buy earplugs.

If someone works for you, then they work for you during the hours they are paid for. Outside those hours their lives are not your concern. (Are you listening, Grampian NHS antismoking Nazis?).

Even with politicians, that's true. Yes, we pay for the Hague's head-shining cream during working hours but outside those hours, what he uses to polish it is his business.

So when Guido started in with 'Oh, look, he shared a room with a bloke' I thought 'Well, so have I'. Admittedly I was skint and had no option but based on my experience, which involved nothing being poked into anyone at any stage, I saw no issue with two men sharing a room. Sometimes you can only afford one room between two. Sometimes there are no spare rooms left and it's share or sleep in the car. It implies... nothing at all.

My feeling on first reading was 'Yawn, no story here, just drop it' but that didn't happen. Oh, no, the newspapers took it up and inflated it faster than a balloon superglued to John Prescott's backside after he'd dealt with the baked bean surplus.

Shiny Bill had to issue a statement to the effect of 'I lift no shirts' and felt the need to tell us about his marriage and its generational difficulties. With which I could pretend to sympathise but in all honesty, I've never met the man and have no interest in him other than his performance in his job. I am sure some will see it as callous but I really cannot worry about six billion peoples' problems without turning into a lefty and wringing my hands until my wrists melt. I don't want the stress. Stress causes cancer and I already smoke, drink and eat salt and fat. It's just too much of a risk.

Then the deputy, something called a SpAd, had to resign having done nothing demonstrably worth resigning over. What is a SpAd? It sounds like something Dr. Who should be dealing with. Have they always been around, or are they part of the Labour inflated state that the Cleggeron Coagulation lied about sorting out?

So Shiny Bill is hetero. His SpAd might or might not be, it's irrelevant because I'm still trying to work out what species a SpAd is. None of it matters in the slightest as long as both do the job they are paid to do. Is there any question of this?

In Shiny Bill's case, none that I can find. I know nothing about SpAdMaN so can't be sure. Obo is of the opinion that Shiny Bill might have given a job to a pal instead of someone more qualified but I don't know so I'm going to leave it alone. If that happened, it was wrong. The 'gay' accusations mean nothing to me. Larry Grayson was a great comedian despite being perhaps a little bit suspect in that direction. My grandmother once called Elton John a 'bumboy' in a loud octogenarian voice but she still liked his music. It was long before he 'came out' too. Very perceptive, if totally uncontrollable woman, my grandmother. She's dead now.

Julian Clary, on the other hand - No. Too much. Funny for the first five minutes but when the word 'innuendo' becomes the innuendo you've pushed it too far (fnarr). Dear me, I think I might have actually given him a new innuendo for his act. Which is not so much 'in your face' as 'innuendo'. Get some material that doesn't revolve around your backside, Julian.

Anyway, back to the vague Hague story. I think, this time, Guido was stretching a non-story just to be a git. Up to him but he hasn't come out of it well. Even the calm and tolerant Mummylonglegs is a little bit on the miffed side. You can tell by the uncharacteristically intemperate terminology (if you had a New Labour education, that means she's sworn a bit).

Guido has made his name by having a mad blog and good luck to him. It's not a route I'd choose but it has obviously been a successful one. On this one, I think he's called it wrong. Shiny Bill is now threatening to resign before the next election and I've only just come up with the 'Shiny Bill' name. Dammit, Guido, give me a chance here.

Perhaps the most interesting thing to come out of the whole sorry debacle is Iain Dale's somewhat random declaration that the actions of one blogger reflect on us all. Even those of us who didn't mention the matter at all. He swears he would never do such a thing himself. He would never break news of a political scandal based on something he has heard along the grapevine. No, never.

Blogger, read thyself.

Sometimes we get things wrong. Sometimes the red mist gets the better of us and we blog before thinking. We are all human, even some of those Labour voters qualify. Getting things wrong isn't the end of the world. It's not a disaster. We might look like a bit of a dick for a while but it blows over.

Unless, Iain, you do much the same thing as Guido, the day after berating him for it.

Then the laughter lasts a while.