A stethoscope. Photo: Carl Court/Getty Images
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My keyboard is held together by Sellotape. And what’s that strange buzzing in my groin?

Failing hardware and Withnail occupy Nicholas Lezard.

It’s a weird period, the week between Boxing Day and New Year. It’s as if the whole country is wandering around in its pyjamas, muttering to itself. I hunker down in the Hovel behind a barricade of wine bottles; it seems like the wisest course of action.

Company eventually comes in the form of the daughter, who likes to use the Hovel as a launchpad for her return to university. She finds it a convivial place and seems to enjoy my ideas of how to entertain ourselves in the evening. (Though she loves her brothers, they are not given to conversation once settled in front of their screens.) So the first part of Monday evening is spent eating pizza and watching Withnail and I. Normally I am strict about the matter of talking when a film is on but we’ve seen Withnail so many times between us that occasionally we feel moved to comment when we have something we think is interesting to say about it.

There are, I gather, people who not only do not like this film particularly but think that it is a bit odd to have watched it around 50 times. (This is a conservative estimate.) To which I can only reply: would you put a limit on the number of times you would listen to a favourite piece of music? Moreover, although the film may have, to us, reached the condition of music, there are plenty of times in life when it seems directly relevant.

One of them, which I keep quiet about, occurs early when Marwood (this is the name of the “I” character), after a 60-hour speed binge, says: “My thumbs have gone weird.” I have not been on such a binge myself and neither have my thumbs gone weird; but my groin has. The only way I can describe it is that it’s as if someone has left a very tiny mobile phone in the front of my undercrackers and left it on “vibrate” mode, set to go off every three seconds or so.

It is the kind of thing one hesitates to go to the doctor about. Not only is it painless, it’s not entirely unpleasant. But it is not normal; I certainly haven’t read about this in the user’s manual. I am, at the moment, due to illness in the family (and terminal illness at that), becoming rather sensitised to the shocks that flesh is heir to and I wonder if this is the start of something nasty. Then again, the toes on my left foot have been ever so slightly numb for about ten years now. That hasn’t got any better but it hasn’t got any worse.

I suppose I am at the age when the downhill progress starts accelerating. I can see this happening right now on the machine I am using to write this piece. A Lenovo PC of some venerability, it is sort of held together by Sellotape and the keyboard makes a funny, squeaking noise as I type. The built-in mouse has ceased to function, as has the fingerprint reader (a rather snazzy feature that impressed my children when this computer was a new arrival). Somehow I managed to dig out an external mouse from the crap on my desk; only now the cursor seems to skip about after a few hours of use and I will suddenly look to the screen – I’ve never learned to touch-type – and see that I’ve inserted several sentences into the first paragraph, where they do not belong.

Which is all rather tiresome but not unliveable with. After all, the alternative – to get something done about these things, rather than simply to put up with them – does not appeal. One would involve a doctor either putting his or her hand down my pants or telling me to stop wasting his or her time; and the other would involve either buying a new laptop, which is financially beyond me, or replacing the keyboard again. Having had both a new keyboard and a new screen, my laptop now resembles grandfather’s axe, or Theseus’s ship, thus raising the philosophical problem of whether something whose component parts have all been replaced can still be said to be the same thing.

Meanwhile, buzz, buzz goes the groin again, as if a miniaturised submarine full of tiny doctors (including, wondrously, a microscopic Raquel Welch) had got jammed somewhere below the pubic bone. Everything else down there, I hasten to add, is in fine working order. Certainly finer than I might expect of someone of my age and lifestyle. So one does not want to go to the doctor in case one is told that one of the body’s key components needs replacing. Or that one needs an external mouse. Actually, that’s a line of speculation I’m going to close off right now. 

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 08 January 2015 issue of the New Statesman, The Churchill Myth

Photo: Getty
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Who will win the Copeland by-election?

Labour face a tricky task in holding onto the seat. 

Too close to call, neck-and-neck, down to the wire. Pick your cliché for a close-run thing, and that’s what the parties are saying about Copeland.

No governing party has won a seat in a by-election since 1982, and the seat has been Labour-held since 1935, but the circumstances could scarcely be more favourable to the Conservative Party. They are well ahead in the opinion polls and Labour’s electoral coalition is badly split over Brexit.

To add to the discomfort, Jeremy Corbyn, the Labour leader, has a long history of opposing nuclear power, though he has sounded a more supportive note since becoming leader. Sellafield is the main employer there, so regardless of the national picture, that would be an added complication.

Given the competing pressures from the Liberal Democrats on one side and the Conservatives and Ukip on the other, Labour should expect significant erosion in the 42 per cent of the vote they got in 2015. To win, all the Conservatives have to do is tread water. And it's worth noting that so far in this parliament, the results in by-elections have been what you'd expect according to the current state of the parties in the polls - which would mean you'd back Labour to win Stoke but the Tories to win Coepland. 

That Theresa May has visited the seat attests to the closeness. Privately, neither party can be confident of winning. For the Conservatives, that makes it worth putting Theresa May, currently the most popular politician in Britain if the polls are to be believed, into the fray, because what have they got to lose? For the Labour leadership, there is nothing to "win" if they hold a seat in opposition, but there is something to lose if they cannot hold it and Corbyn has visited in the final week. 

What is keeping Labour competitive is the state of the health service in Cumbria. If West Cumberland, the hospital, is closed, then residents will face a two hour drive to the nearest hospital.

The local “success regime” is the cause of significant public opposition. "There are a lot of people who are angry about Jeremy, angry about Trident [the submarines are made nearby]," says one MP, "But they also understand that if they vote Labour they will not be bringing in a government that closes Sellafield but they can send a message about West Cumberland [the hospital that is under threat of closure]."

So Labour have reason to be more cheerful than the bookmakers are concerned. The outcome will come down to what the question that voters are asking when they vote is: if it is nuclear power, the Tories will win. If it is healthcare, Labour will triumph.

In that, May’s visit has probably helped Labour on balance. She could have decisively shifted the contest by making a commitment to keep West Cumberland open and to secure the future of the Moorside nuclear plant. But she did neither, and instead that meant that the local newspaper splashed on her refusal to confirm that the hospital was safe. Which, in a close election, may well be the difference as far as winning and losing are concerned. 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to British politics.