'huge, queer and tawdry' but 'much admired by the public'

Another cleric joins in the Newspeak warnings against 'atheistic fundamentalism' - but, oh dear, one of the examples he quotes is the renaming of christmas as Winterval by politically correct types. The problem being, if you google 'Winterval', several of the results on the first page will inform you that the whole thing is a myth, a bogeyman from under Richard Littlejohn's bed.
So the Archbishop would seem, whether disingenuously and deceitfully or just through extreme stupidity, to be propagating utter nonsense which can be disproven with the slightest research or thought.
The punchline writes itself, doesn't it?

Thursday's Unity Mitford documentary was a frustrating beast; they had half an hour on a fascinating individual, but felt the need for a sensational hook (because a thirties British socialite obsessed with Hitler and accepted into his inner circle apparently isn't enough) so built the whole thing around a They Saved Hitler's Baby! investigation. Which eventually revealed that...they didn't. Oh. They were also somewhat lacking in historical sense, apparently believing that Unity's Nazism would have been as shocking to thirties Britons as it would be to today's, failing to grasp that at the time many among the upper classes saw the Nazis as a useful bulwark against Bolshevism - if anything it would have been Jessica Mitford's communist half of the bedroom which would have appalled them.
Still, information obtained:
Unity may have been an idiot, but it can't have helped that she was conceived in the town of Swastika and given the middle name Valkyrie.
Roderick Spode, as seen in the Fry & Laurie Jeeves & Wooster, was not just a comic grotesque, but a very accurate spoof of Oswald Mosley - the mannerisms, the 'tache, everything.
Unity Mitford looked eerily similar to the twins from Big Brother. So if they did save Hitler's baby, maybe they're the grandkids?

Loved the fog on Friday night; in the absence of snow it was just right to get me into that Victorian christmas mood. All I was missing was a top hat and a large knife. And in its own way yesterday was even spookier, with the capital (or at least Clapham) seeming to already be pretty much deserted for the holidays. An exodus I shall be joining this afternoon; look after London while I'm gone, and I'll be seeing some of you on the 27th.