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Home > Politics

Tony Blair: Hot Love on the Free Love Highway

12 December 2003

There was a curious, obscure and slightly deja-vu-ish row this week when Downing Street told the press not to publish pictures of a Christmas card featuring their toddler Leo. The 'private' Christmas card shows the Blairs and their four children posing in the grounds of Chequers.

The more sober papers reported this as a classic row over press freedom and how much privacy should be granted to high-profile public figures, but in fact, it's just a classic example of how unswervingly naff the Blairs are.

Who on earth sends out Christmas cards of themselves? It's the sort of thing Elton John might do, or your odd uncle who's just bought 5,000-worth of computer equipment and can't think of anything more worthwhile to do with it than make his own Christmas cards, or keep a database of his favourite episodes of Peak Practice, complete with 1,000-word reviews that will never be read by anyone except himself.

And who on earth wants to see Tony, with his mad-eyed stare and matey pullover, and Cherie, doing her mutton-dressed-as-lamb routine in some prohibitively expensive tailored coat, staring smugly at you from the top of the TV for the entire Christmas period?

Even stranger is the fact that the row comes not long after the Blairs tried to stop the press publishing pictures of Leo when Jacques Chirac held up a signed photo of him at last month's Anglo-French summit.

Yes, you did read that correctly. What on earth goes on at these summits? It makes them sound like those compulsory visits to your most boring relatives: "And zen Monsieur Blair got out is 'oliday photos. I was so bored I wanted to... 'ow you say.. shit on ze carpet...?"

Seriously, exactly how naff can the Blairs be? Does Tony have a little sign in the cabinet office saying 'You don't have to be mad to work here, but it helps!'? Does Cherie have a collection of weeping Pierrot dolls and Beanie Babies? During Prime Minister's question time, is Tony going to get out his guitar, David Brent-style, and start playing old songs by Ugly Rumours?

Comment on this article: letters@thefridaything.co.uk

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