Michael “Lord” Ashcroft is remarkable for being the politics addict with money. His twin missions in life seem to be the aggrandisement of Michael “Lord” Ashcroft and shoving the Tories further and further to the right — the wrong right in many cases.
His largess extends to underwriting the market for second-hand Victoria Crosses (seen one, seen ’em all), of which he has about 12% of the entire world’s supply. That is an eccentric, expensive, but harmless occupation.
Similarly his commitment to the politicshome/conhome/Dods combine keeps a menagerie of toothless tigers and a couple of decent journos — Paul Waugh and Tim Mongomerie spring to mind — gainfully occupied and off the streets. In this incarnation Ashcroft is to wayward political junkies what Ian Allen has been to anoraked train-spotters for many decades.
And so we come to The House magazine:
Parliament’s very own magazine delivered to every MP and peer directly, has a new look and content for 2012. Already we have had cover interviews with David Cameron, Ed Miliband and Nick Clegg.
With columns, diaries and reviews from MPs and peers, it is now packed with content that we hope will interest those within and without Westminster.
Subscribe today and gain;
Yes: Malcolm, too, has been speculating on the legitimacy of that terminal semi-colon which introduces a bullet-point list of the arguable advantages of throwing good money at such a dubious operation:
- Unique insight into the work (and world) of MPs and peers
- Weekly interviews, diaries and profiles of party leaders, key MPs and peers
- Dedicated policy reviews with key updates, analysis and data, providing readers with a reference tool and coverage of key policy issues
Considering the wheelie-bin of main-street media Malcolm sends out to trash each week, and the pile of exhausted electrons that drop out of the back of his Mac each hour, he is amazed that there is anything politically “unique” left to discover.
What never fails to grab Malcolm’s attention, though, are the front-cover mug-shots. Unfailingly, singly, they have a chilling effect, as if they have each been run through the Photoshop “fishmonger’s slab” filter. They represent but don’t quite depict the personality. Somehow, without fail, they seem to belong more to Baker Street and Madame Tussaud’s than to Westminster and the Mother of Parliaments.
Michael Ashcroft meets George Romero
The latest couple of covers have been very scary indeed, in a Night of the Living Dead remake: