A Clod Writes

 

Don’t worry, not all of this will be about Stephen Fry. I would point out, though, that the point remains that Mr Fry posted, on the Internet, a deliberately personally rude reference to me (the word ‘clod’ was part of it) , on the day of my brother’s memorial event in New York, . He later withdrew it, after some of his own followers rebuked him. But, as he must well know, withdrawn doesn’t mean expunged.

 

I felt entitled to respond to it, by giving a truthful account of our meeting.

 

Some contributors seem to have concluded, from my last posting, that Mr Fry was wounded by some personal insult from me, and so felt justified in his behaviour.

 

Not a bit of it. In our conversation, which I never sought, I was entirely civil. I just made no pretence of friendliness, nor was I specially tolerant of Mr Fry’s rather feeble boilerplate on the religious issue (for those interested, I did, as I always do, make my simple point that the issue of God’s existence or non-existence could not be proved one way or another. Mr Fry, as dogmatic anti-God people almost invariably do, pocketed this enormous concession without any acknowledgement, and without grasping that it applied to him as well. This is an invariable sign that the intellect is not fully engaged in the subject, as exemplified here so many times, and at such great length, by the ineffable Mr ‘Bunker’). I called him no names. I made no remarks about his personal qualities.   

 

I noticed that those Fry fans who found their way here tended to indulge in the same sort of personal abuse that their hero had employed. One even denounced me as ‘petulant’ for turning away from the microphone when I had finished reciting my contribution at the memorial event. What was I supposed to do, stand and wait for applause? Time was running on, others had to speak. What was more, I was keenly aware of the fact that I wasn’t quite in tune with the general tone.   Good heavens, there are some people for whom I can do no right.

 

They should note (and would have noticed had they been as bright as they think they are)  that the description’ a stupid person’s idea of what an intelligent person is like’ is not actually directed at Mr Fry, though it’s not meant to be complimentary to him either.   It is directed at his reputation and at his admirers.  Mr Fry may well be intelligent, though he has so far concealed this effectively from me. What I find amusing are the legions of people, and BBC producers,  who swoon and sigh before him as if he were a combination of Oscar Wilde (though he’s terribly over-rated too) and Freddie Ayer.  They do this not because of his intellect, but because of his manner and because of the fact that they agree with his sentiments.

 

I tend to suspect that the fact that he delivers revolutionary sentiments ( and lavatory words) in conservative accents endears him to the Radio 4 audience who want cultural conservatism, and a comfortable middle-class urban life, at the same time as they desire the destruction of the morals, traditions and customs which uphold these things. That’s my most fundamental reason for disapproving of Mr Fry. He represents a desire to have it both ways, to ride free. If he spoke in the accents of (say) Kenny Everett or Russell Brand, I doubt if the act would have such a following.

 

Mr Fry is of course free to give his own account of our conversation. No doubt it would differ from mine. I wasn’t taking notes, or recording it, so can’t offer a verbatim version, as some contributors seem to think I should have done.

 

Now, the mention of Russell Brand brings me on to my latest encounter with this person, which took place in Portcullis House, the hideous annexe to the Houses of Parliament, on Tuesday.

 

Both of us were there to appear as witnesses before the House of Commons Home Affairs Select Committee.

 

I had some detailed, factual, knowledgeable things to say, and arguments to make which were based on those facts and that knowledge, much of it obtained during the writing of my next book.  He didn’t.  In fact he seemed to be under the impression, which I do not think can be in any way justified by facts, that users of the illegal drug heroin are in some way harshly treated by the law. He attracted a great deal of coverage.  I attracted very little.

 

The one useful thing he said (and I might add he was strikingly rude to the Labour MP David Winnick, so much so that, had I been chairman, I would have required him to apologise) was to describe being arrested for drug possession as ‘an administrative blip’. This is quite accurate. Where the police bother to arrest possessors of illegal drugs at all, the action has no moral or legal force, and is done only for the sake of form.

 

The same could be said of our entire system of drug law enforcement. It exists only because the majority of voters would never accept open decriminalisation, and because our international treaty obligations prevent us from abandoning formal legal bans. This has been increasingly the case since 1971, with the law being salami-sliced away, year by year by year, until it is so feeble and thin that it no longer has any power or force.

 

Oh, as for Jeremy Hunt, Rupert Murdoch etc, the thing I cannot forgive is that David Cameron’s first action on receiving the backing of the Murdoch press was to come out (in ‘the Sun’)  in fervent support of the continued deployment of British troops in Afghanistan.  We shall no doubt find out what other prices he paid or did not pay for this, as various inquests continue, but brave people have died and been maimed thanks to Mr Cameron’s pig-headed persistence with this moronic, pointless war.