Mark Andrews: Scuffles over flavoured water and community punishment orders –is the world going mad?
Self-appointed social-media "influencer" and "reality television star" Andrew Tate sent a message to Greta Thunberg on Twitter, boasting that he owned 33 expensive cars, and how he enjoyed polluting the planet. Miss Thunberg replied by suggesting Mr Tate had a small penis.
Commentator Dan Hodges says this represents 'a classic example of culture-war tribal disconnect'.
Really? I would say it is more a sad indictment of the puerile way the social-media generation debates the issue of the day.
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Talking of which, there have been some very strange goings on at supermarkets this week.
At Aldi in Chelmsford, a group of young lads, all identically dressed in black padded jackets like a Beastie Boys tribute band, started scuffling over bottles of raspberry-flavoured coconut water.
Now I used to think it was a little bit sad when people spent their Christmas camped outside the furniture shop to save a few hundred quid on a sofa, but flavoured water?
Not only are kids rushing out to spend £1.99 on Prime Hydrate, but folk are also selling it on eBay at 12 grand a bottle. Puts Del Boy's Peckham Spring in perspective.
And it seems all the hype is down to the fact that a bloke from Watford, who calls himself KSI and used to video himself playing computer games, and an American wrestler called Logan Paul, are telling them to buy it on YouTube.
I have no idea what the appeal of these modern-day pied-pipers is, but it seems slightly disturbing that they have such a hold over young minds.
KSI, by the way, stands for Knowledge, Strength, Integrity. Is it just me, or is the world going mad?
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A future Labour government would allow victims of crime to choose community punishment orders for offenders.
This looks great on paper, but I suspect would quickly unravel the moment it faced the harsh test of reality.
Imagine being the victim of an assault or break-in, which left you living in fear. You look over your shoulder every time you leave the house, you might even have to change your job. A constant shadow hangs over your life.
And then one day a letter drops on the doormat – strikes permitting, of course – asking whether you think the person who put you through this ordeal should be made to do litter picking or gardening duties. Would you really feel justice had been done?
Assuming, of course, anyone was caught in the first place. Which we all know is vanishingly unlikely.
