Another Lot of Hot Air

Just when I thought the publishing world had come to its senses, they go and throw a dollop of cash at a government spin-doctor who, if there were any justice in this world, should have been behind bars for his actions.
Alastair Campbell, whose book, entitled, I believe, The Blair Years, has been given an astronomical advance by his publisher. He can, I am sure, produce a racy volume without the aid of a ghost writer. Since most of his previous work has been fictional, it will be interesting to see on which shelves the booksellers align the volumes of his work.
If Mr. Campbell could be relied upon to tell the truth, it might prove to be of considerably greater interest than the chunterings of Mr. Blunkett and I am sure that his publisher, Random House, will be keeping their fingers crossed in hopes that it will achieve a few more sales than of that boring compendium.
But, with Mr. Campbell's previous record, it seems unlikely that much truth will prevail. Once a spin doctor, always a spin doctor - only this time the spin will be no doubt geared to making his previous actions a little more creditable.
And his options are now more limited. His former paymaster is on the way out and the heir apparent is not too favourably inclined toward him. So what's a guy to do? Grab a cool million for spilling the beans is what you have to do.
And his qualifications are probably as good as you get in this field which no doubt accounts for the interest displayed by Random House. After all, a man whose first essay into the literary world was a bit of pornograhy for Forum magazine is a man to be reckoned with.
Somehow, I feel that Hans Christian Andersen, to say nothing of Enid Blyton, may be in for serious competition here.
What worries me most is that, amongst his other talents, he is an accomplished player of the bagpipes.
Surely an ill-wind that no-one blows good.