Peter Rhodes on burning flags, wearing the wrong costume and why the Kremlin loves Hamas
If you think M&S's apology to Palestine was a bit over the top, you ain't seen nothing yet. The M&S statement following the posting of an Xmas TV advert outtake showing red, green and silver party hats burning on a fire. Some folk on social media complained that the hats resembled the flag of Palestine. Even though the ad had been filmed months before the Gaza war, M&S promptly caved in and declared: “We apologise for any unintentional hurt caused.”
If you think that's an unnecessary apology, consider the grovelling statement issued by the Schitt's Creek star Emily Hampshire after she and a friend turned up at a Halloween party dressed as that troubled couple Johnny Depp and Amber Heard.
With hindsight, Hampshire felt this might in some way make light of domestic abuse. So she not only announced on Instagram that she was “sorry and ashamed” but apologised for having “put something that awful out into the universe".
The universe? Behold, a thoughtless fancy-dress decision thunders like some malevolent death star into the furthest recesses of time and space. This fashion faux pas does not merely shake the world or the solar system or even our galaxy but the entire universe. Black holes implode, nebulas collapse and the eternal space-time continuum is splintered into a billion shards of anti-matter, echoing: “Emily has mocked Johnny.” Wonder what she'll wear for the next fancy-dress party. Does Prince Harry have any advice?
When Hamas leaders were warmly invited to the Kremlin last month, we wondered what these two organisations could possibly have in common. And then a few days ago came news of slaughter in the Russian-occupied town of Volnovakha. Russian soldiers demanded a house. When the owners declined, the Russians killed all nine of them, including two young children. So that's the connection between Hamas and the Kremlin. The same sense of morality, decency and humanity.
At first I ignored the Covid inquiry because it seemed like a massive and rather pointless exercise in hindsight. But then it suddenly turned riveting as we witnessed The Devil Incarnate transmogrified into The Bringer of Great Truth. If this real-life pantomime does not end with the words, “Arise, Sir Dominic,” maybe it will in the Netflix version.
