Back from rubbing sunburned shoulders with a splendid collection of C list celebs* poolside, we've missed a packed week. Our old friends at the Home Office have been particularly busy:
- Prison places run out- what a comfort that Reid has "not ruled out" a new prison building programme. Unfortunately, these clowns have done FA about it for the last 10 years, and now the money's run out. Of course, he could easily find it by cutting some of the especially useless bits of his empire (eg £1bn pa on the hopeless Probation Service), but Prescotts might fly
- Strategic melt-down- the monumental incompetence and wishful thinking surrounding the "management" of convicted paedophiles is highlighting the real problem- a total absence of workable strategy at the top. Little wonder that the cops are despairing at Reid's panicky response to the News of the Screws campaign for Sarah's Law- does he really believe any of us are still fooled by Labour's increasingly ludicrous attempts at headline management?
- Border controls collapse- the government's own counter-terrorism advisor reports that Customs officers are too thinly spread to deter bad guys from coming in via private jet. Or just hiring a floating gin palace and joining the drug runners flooding ashore at Brixham and Salcombe
Home Office alumni have also been busy in their new jobs. Hopeless Beverly Hughes- the New Labour apparatchik eventually forced to resign over the Morecambe Bay cocklers- is happily back at work at the DfES. There she's been assuring us the Department takes their shambolic paedo screening system "very seriously". Another comfort.
And the infuriating Barbara Roche- sacked as too dire even for Tony- has been opining on management reform at the HO. Well, she's been telling us things need to change, but it's all very difficult, and er... umm...well they jolly well need to be sorted out... by... well, we need a committee of, you know, real experts, who sort of know what to do.
There's nothing we can add to that.
* As regards C list celebs, the spotting was all conducted by Mrs T who has a frankly unhealthy familiarity with the OK Magazine form book. Increasingly, I'm like that High Court judge who used to ask "Who are the Beatles?"