Rising to the bait is rarely advisable, but sometimes one is tired and fractious and, like a child, very eager to be centred in the discourse. Thus it was that, sitting at the ferry port waiting for the night crossing home to Ireland after a week interviewing writers and performers at literary festivals in the UK, I tweeted irritably about Nadine Dorries.
Do I give a stuff whether she believes people were booing at Boris or, in her version, expressing their utter delight and gratitude at his presence? I do not. But, it struck me, I’d really like it if the culture secretary tweeted about culture, not its invented wars, and acknowledged that the arts were in evidence up and down the land. That my message seemed to find favour in my little echo chamber was nice but, perhaps, a somewhat pyrrhic victory.
