Captain Moonlight: The rise of Anneism . . . kickbacks . . . and Manchester

Charles Nevin
Saturday 22 October 1994 23:02 BST
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NO. NO. NO. Not more about the Prince and Princess of Wales. Well, yes, but only tangentially, I promise. And it is rather important. Word reaches the Captain, as it does, of a growing tendency around the dining tables of the influential: Anneism. This can shortly be described as the firm view that the Princess Royal would make rather a better fist of reigning than the Prince of Wales.

The argument as articulated over the brandy balloons is that only this Princess can save the monarchy from itself. Some would have her as Regent to Prince William; others as Queen in her own right. But what, I hear you say, about the Constitution? Surely she couldn't be Queen when there are the claims of Prince William, his brother and uncles to be considered? Indeed, but the beauty of the British constitution, as any constitutional lawyer will tell you, is that Parliament can make it do anything. On the last Queen Anne's death, for example, George I succeeded by order of Parliament despite some 50 better claims.

The Princess is certainly the People's Choice. You will recall that in a survey conducted for this newspaper in August, she was the favourite candidate to be the first president of a republic. The only problem I can foresee is that her cause has been taken up by Paul Johnson. Meanwhile I note that the Prince of Wales has 20 engagements here between now and Christmas, while the Princess Royal has 74 and the Princess of Wales one.

See you at the Coronation.

AY OOP] Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs] Any other quaint Northernisms you can think of] The Captain was not best pleased with all that talk about St Petersburg being a better place than Manchester. Even if Her Majesty was misquoted, there was nothing nice about the way fancy Southern commentators took the opportunity for the usual sneers about the rain and whippets. Yes, since you ask, the Captain does have certain North-western affiliations, but that has nothing to do with my unceasing quest for the truth beyond t'stereotype. Happen. Tha knows. Anyway, I got to thinking how much better most places would be if they were more like Manchester. The result, as realised by the Captain's illustrator, Ken Cox, is, you'll agree, conclusive. Anyone interested in a poster should get in touch with the Captain.

SORRY? The picture on the right? Oh, that. That's Roger Moore, 26, from Bath. Roger is a male striptease artist. Currently, he is appearing at hen parties dressed as James Hewitt, the chap who featured in the week- before-last's royal scandal. James strips down to his Union Flag boxer shorts to the tune of the national anthem. How much does he earn? pounds 50 a time. Perhaps Hewitt should try it himself. Do you remember the defrocked Vicar of Stiffkey, a very naughty fellow, who cashed in by appearing at circuses, until a lion ate him? Over to you, Jimmy] FOLLOWING Tony Blair's re-ordering of his Shadow Cabinet, you will doubtless be keenly hankering after one of Captain Moonlight's Reshuffle Miscellanies, my justly acclaimed selections of almost entirely inconsequential information about leading political figures. So here goes: 1) Robin Cook, the new shadow Foreign Secretary, began reading the New Statesman when he was 14. 2) Jack Dromey, of the TGWU, husband of Harriet Harman, the new employment shadow, was voted the best-dressed trade unionist of 1984. 3) Jack Straw, the shadow Home Secretary, cooks a mean souffle. 4) Gavin Strang, the new agriculture spokesman, twitches his nose like a rabbit when speaking. 5) Harriet Harman once suffered from pneumonia brought on by psittacosis, a disease transmitted by parrots; so did Sir Peregrine Worsthorne. 6) Jack Straw's great- grandfather was a boot black at a big house in Epping Forest. 7) Harriet Harman's uncle is Lord Longford. 8) Harriet Harman's three children have her surname: 'The question is, who gets up in the middle of the night and looks after them?' 9) Robin Cook intended to be a minister in the Church of Scotland. He is now a racing tipster with the Daily Record. His form this season is described as 'better than evens'.

YOU WILL have noticed that there has been a fair bit of bad blood between the British and the French over the years. Only recently there was another kerfuffle when the French Institute for International Relations opined that to study Britain was to study decline, sex scandals and cheap political infighting. So Le capitain de la clair de la lune was most moved to discover that part of les kickbacks allegedly received by Alain Carrignon, the minister of communications, for contracts granted in his capacity as Mayor of Grenoble, was 60,000 francs worth of English lessons at Berlitz. Perhaps he thought he could learn something.

HAVE your card marked by Moonlight: the first of an occasional series in which the Captain samples fashionable predilections on your behalf and then reports back that he doesn't know what the fuss is all about. Today, fancy food, specifically that provided by Marco Pierre White, the exciteable Italian Yorkshireman, at the Hyde Park Hotel. Well. It cost pounds 65 a head and I got to sit at the next table to Rocco Forte, who owns the hotel, and a few others besides. Lobster ravioli, fine, lamb, fine, pudding very nice, though I can't remember what it was now. Maitre d', indeterminately foreign, a little too fresh with Mrs Moonlight for my liking. A glimpse of Marco Pierre in his overalls and rather fetching brown boots. Other guests included some Pacific Rimmers wearing what looked his 'n' hers airline uniforms, blue with gold trimmings, and some Germans. Who says Germans haven't got a sense of humour? One of them put a napkin on his head, and they simply roared. Then he did it again. And I couldn't hear what Rocco was saying. Next week: Quentin Tarantino's debt to Ealing.

BRRRRIINNNGGG] Thus the urgent tones of the Captain's telephone. On the other end: Duane, my correspondent specialising in the exciting, febrile doings of the demi-monde. 'Captain,' shouts Duane, 'did you know that His Royal Highness Prince Sufri Bolkiah, sports-mad son of the Sultan of Brunei, recently a competitor in the Commonwealth Games in the skeet and trap shooting competitions, has been having snooker lessons from Steve 'Interesting' Davis, the red- haired former world champion?' Gently, I tell Duane that this is common knowledge. 'Well, then, what about Lady Bienvenida Buck to star in a Spanish mini-series about her amazing life and times?'

Old, I tell him. 'And Ivana Trump trying to pay for a pounds 1.50 loaf of bread at Harrods with a credit card?' Ivana denies it, I tell him. But Duane is a man of stamina. 'Right, what about Lennox Lewis, beaten British heavyweight boxing champion, London born, Canadian raised, having a big image remould to emphasise his Englishness?' Any truth, I ask, in the rumour that Lennox has hired a dialogue coach from Honor Oak? Duane says he heard Higham's Park, but promises to check it out.

NOW IT can be told. The Captain's eye was caught last week by a story about two children from Hampshire who have corresponded with 2,000 famous people, including the Pope and John Major. Mr Major, according to the item, had written them an 11-page letter. Anxious to add to the Major archive, I spoke to the children's father, Mike Irving, who said that the letter was in fact six pages long, and was in the form of Mr Major's answers to his son Matthew's questions. It is dated 2 February 1990, when Mr Major was Chancellor of the Exchequer, and it is the first answer that is of immense significance to biographers, historians and Treasury watchers alike: 'I do not of course pay any heed to horoscopes and I certainly do not take them into account when planning what to do next.'

AND BEFORE I finish, I thought you really ought to know that the current telephone answering message of Kitty Kelley, author of a much-trailed biography of the Duke of Edinburgh, has a distinctly triumphant note. It features a loud and stately version of 'God Save The Queen' over which Ms Kelley can be heard intoning: 'This machine accepts all royal messages, so please leave yours after the tone.' Any Windsors who have not already availed themselves of this service should get in touch with the Captain.

The Captain's Catch-up Service: TARRRAHH] Stand by, once again, for the weekly news digest that goes beyond the headlines and brings you the stories that tell the truth about the human condition . . . Farmer David Arthur, 64, from Cornwall, had 1,000 turnips stolen from his fields in three nights . . . The last member of People Unlimited, a cult based in Paris preaching immortality, has died . . . Hotel robber Walter Straub grabbed 25- stone Luta Widmer as a hostage but got stuck with her in the revolving door. Police arrested him . . . The world's oldest surgeon is Fyodor Uglov, of St Petersburg, who carried out a lung operation just three days before his 90th birthday . . . Cat and dog owners in America can now buy designer drinks for their pets, including one called 'tangy fish' . . . Dr Melvyn Rosenstein of Los Angeles is carrying out 240 penis enlargement operations a month. 'I used to cure cancer and nobody even said thank you. This is the greatest thing I've ever done,' he said . . .

Also in Los Angeles, O J Simpson costumes for Halloween, complete with prison uniform, bloody hand and knife, are on sale for dollars 30 . . .

Claims that the innards of Chi Chi the panda ended up on a taxidermist's barbecue after she was stuffed were denied . . . A driver stopped on the westbound carriageway of the M4 near Bristol in a van containing 6,000 bottles of Continental lager told police: 'It's for a private party' . . .

And, finally, if you turn this new book by the Pope upside down, the price reads 66.6, which is the mark of the . . . Arrggh] Pulp it now] (Photographs omitted)

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