Another richly textured week in the crazy, crazy life of Mr Tony Blair draws to its close... and as so often when that ineradicable fungal infection in the national armpit flares up, the head is sent spinning by the man, his works and his genius for self-delusion.
It isn’t so much that you don’t know where to start with him, though I confess that on this occasion, beset by so much choice, it’s a struggle; more that you could go mad – droolingly, screechingly doolally – trying to fathom what goes on in his head.
Start somehow we must, and a brief chronological recap of recent Blairworld highlights seems as useful a launch pad as any. On Tuesday, we belatedly learnt of his attendance last year, on the banks of the Jordan, at the christening of god-daughter Grace, now nine-year-old girl child of Rupert and Wendi Murdoch. On Thursday, though only a Blair super-nerd will have noticed, it emerged that he has received a “peace award” – another one! – in Tel Aviv for his splendid if mysterious work sprinkling harmony across the Middle East. Yesterday, that cherished role as peacebringer firmly in mind, he informed us in an interview in The Times that war with Iran is the way ahead. » | Matthew Norman | Friday, September 09, 2011
