![](https://latourabolie.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/pexels-photo-9948393.jpeg)
Unsurprisingly, couldn’t find a picture to match the title so here is a little pearly caterpillar instead.
I follow politics avidly – it’s a hobby and a pastime. Dull as I am in my enforced seclusion in the dustbin-end of England, it serves to sprinkle a seasoning of excitement and intrigue upon my day. I watch the morning, evening and lunchtime news bulletins; I tune in to “The Papers” every night at 10:30 and again at 11:30 to hear journalists discussing tomorrow’s stories; I listen to the brilliant Newscast podcast, of which there is a new one almost daily. I know all the political journalists by name and I read many of their written stories in the BBC News app.
This is really quite sad, isn’t it?
However, I’m fairly sure I’m not the only one. One of the journalists on “The Papers” last night let slip that she hated the Sports news on the radio. Oh come on, come on, come on, she would think, let’s get onto the interesting Politics stuff!
I am of course interested in politics as it might affect my life? Is my pension going to go up, am I going to have to have another vaccination soon? Are the cost of living or fuel prices going to sky-rocket? It makes one feel a little safer to be informed about these things, though virtually powerless as an individual to do anything about anything.
I’m also interested in my fellow human beings (as long as I don’t have to interact with them face to face too often). I want to know their stories – and not just in this country. I want to know what’s happening in different parts of the world – are there terrible blizzards in Canada? What’s it like to be an asylum-seeker crossing the Channel in an inflatable boat? How does it feel to live in places where the temperature can reach 50 degrees? I love all stories – real ones as much as fictional ones.
I’m also attracted by the ‘intrigue’ side of politics. It’s a game of chess, a battle of wills, a series of devious plots and manoeuvres, all taking place in an atmosphere of smiling politeness and archaic formality. I love how they think, how they plot, how they conspire in dark corners – possibly because I wouldn’t have been clever or ambitious enough to do anything like it myself. I’ve got to the stage now when I can nearly always work out motives and underlying strategies immediately, by myself – but it cheers me greatly when some journalist comes up with the same analysis. It’s akin to actually getting a question right on Mastermind.
But most of all the wordsmith in me loves the colourful language, the metaphors they use. Unbearable though I found You-Know-Who of the blond comb-over and orange permatan, it was in connection with him that I learned of the Dead Cat Bounce. Correct me if I’m wrong but I think this means to distract from something you don’t want people be thinking/talking about by suddenly introducing some random, ultra-dramatic topic – the equivalent of slamming a dead cat down on the table. Many of these metaphors are quite violent.
I learned about Government announcements in the papers being “kite-flying exercises” (ie see what the reaction is, we can always withdraw it if it”s unpopular) or ‘nudges’ (ie subtly edge people into behaving the way we want them to behave, without them realising that’s what we are doing) and similarly “dog-whistle politics”.
Of course there’s the classic “night of the long knives” – the final brutal (political, not physical) ganging-together to despatch unwanted politicians and Prime Ministers. Though this phrase is often used in connection with the Conservative party – considered ultra-ruthless politically – it goes back much further. I believe it was originally to do with Hitler and the Holocaust.
And now a new one – at least, new to me. “Handed the pearl-handled revolver”. I love it, ghastly though it is. I can see what it means – if you are defeated, dishonoured or otherwise ‘toast’, your colleagues inform you it’s time for you to resign, or else. (Another way of putting this is, I think, “the men in grey suits will be paying him a visit”.)
I suspect it might have been military in origin. Presumably you would have been “handed the pearl-handled revolver” in order to – well, dispose of yourself in privacy and dignity. Ghastly, but fascinating. Either that or it’s from one of those Agatha Christie-type novels – a shot is heard from the Study, everyone rushes in but – oh dear, too late.
Google is proving most unhelpful. Annoyingly there is a pop group calling themselves Pearl-Handled Revolver (why?) and every attempt to search, no matter how worded, comes up with pages of YouTube videos of them, interviews with them etc.
So, if anybody knows…