tim's experiment

I was in the Bank the other day – the luxurious part where you get a seat, a cup of coffee and a paper to read while you wait – and they had a television on to one of those irritating news channels which runs a tickertape across the bottom of the screen. This was not distracting because the tickertape was in Chinese, as was the sound. So I looked at the pictures. 

This was one of those bulletins often found on Hong Kong television, which consisted entirely of the recent doings of senior officials. First up was the Financial Secretary, looking like a freshly whipped cur and surrounded by dubious men in black who looked like they might be something important in organised crime. I later found that these men were actually the government’s loyal legislative supporters, who had just been revising the FS’s budget for him.  Then we came to Donald, who was still complaining about his sub judice encounter with a protester. Those of us who have watched the Bokhary clip on one of its news outings will realise that the correct form in these matters is for the victim of the alleged assault to take a few seconds to ponder his next move, before giving a yelp, clutching the offended spot, and collapsing onto the pavement. Mr Tsang seems to have taken this polite convention to extremes by taking a ten minute rest, giving a speech and having dinner before he decided he needed to collapse into the nearest hospital.  After Mr Tsang we had the constitutional team, who had just been put through the wringer by legislators who had discovered that – as predicted on this blog many moons ago – the detailed arrangements for the five new constituencies had been designed deliberately to be as undemocratic as possible.  I don’t know why anyone finds this surprising. Next time the democrats decide to take the 30 pieces of silver and put the rat in democrat they will get better value for their betrayal if they insist on a few important details – like single member constituencies.

Leaving these details aside the whole spectacle, in purely visual terms,. was depressing. All the officials concerned looked tired. Our Chief Executive’s hair line is retreating rapidly towards his collar under the strains of office. Nobody looked happy in his work, nobody looked inspired or inspiring. We are led, in short, by a government which has passed its “best before” date and is fast approaching the one where it would be dangerous to feed it to your dog. The great merit of those crude democratic systems which almost force the politicians to sort themselves into two contending parties is that this situation is handled very well. Old tired governments are painlessly euthanised by the electorate and replaced by eager new faces. In time, of course, the eager new faces grow tired and stale in their turn. Meanwhile, though,  the fielding team  has refreshed itself, thought new thoughts,  purged the stupid and the senile, and is ready for another go.  What a contrast with our own dear government, which is condemned to eternal life, staggering zombie-like towards a forgotten destination while a large audience hoots and throws fruit.  If they weren’t so grotesquely over-paid you might feel sorry for them.