liadnan

So Harry Woolf and David Blunkett are into yet another round of their pissing contest. This one could run and run, book now for the biggest constitutional row since Anisminic. In fact it rather looks as if parts of it might be a re-run of Anisminic, a case which stands for the proposition that the High Court's power to review the acts of any public official or body short of Parliament or itself is not lightly to be displaced, and possibly not at all.

Sadly, my own career is unlikely to see such drama. Well, not that sadly, since the areas which do tend to raise this kind of point at present are crime and immigration, both of which I avoid like hard work, heavy lifting, and lenten observances.

Having said that the court I was in this morning was engulfed by the press and I'm rather hoping a photograph of me coming out of court and, inevitably, automatically rolling and lighting a cigarette doesn't appear in The Times tomorrow morning. Particularly since I seem to have a large spot.

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AGM tonight. Bah. I confidently predict it will still be going at 9. Still, went out with K. for noodles last night, so I can't complain. Actually, why not? I can complain and I intend to do so.

Courtesy of K. I do, however, have comp. tickets for the Pre-Raphaelite landscape exhibition next week, hurrah.

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Most dramatic ER ever my arse.

That is all.