'Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it.' Lewis Carroll
I am not prepared to take lectures on morality from a politician. Show me the job description of a Prime Minister and point to the section where it says it is his brief to name an individual who, on professional advice, has taken a financial decision which is legal but which means there is less money in the public coffers.
Rather it is the duty of the Prime Minister to ensure that the law is in place that prevents such 'avoidance'.
Cameron treads a dangerous line. He stirs up jealousy for one thing. Not too many people knew quite how rich a comedian can become. The alternative (which usually means unfunny) comedian is the new rock star. He tours the country, feted, extravagantly paid and will often live in a style seemingly at odds with his cynical humour. He may be spoilt in all senses but that does not mean he should be the focus of name-calling by our elected leader or anyone else who chooses to use him as a negative moral example.
Do those who drink, dine and 'advise' in Downing Street glean their wealth in this country but live abroad to fully benefit from it? Talk to them on my behalf, Mr Cameron.
And do consider my plan to solve the maze that is tax and introduce a simple ten per cent tax, right the way across the board. The only people to suffer will be advisers who make a rich living from grey areas and complexity. At the same time, at the other end of the spectrum, Cameron declares war on benefits scroungers. Since they are too clever to be easily caught it will be the genuinely disadvantaged who will feel the cuts first. It was ever thus.
Meanwhile, to add to the prevailing mood in the country, which is to tell everyone else what they should do, the fashion police are out in force. Cheltenham Ladies College has had to issue 'guidelines' for parents to advise what girls should wear, and more crucially, not wear, to school functions.
Uniformed stewards at Ascot stood about with nasty pashminas and I go this week to Henley, which is after all about teams of lads with bulging thighs on show, where eyes will be peeled for a stray female knee cap. While welcoming the death of the ill-named fascinator, it is clear that fashion police are selected for their poor eyesight and inability to decide where a woman keeps her knees.
The end result is that we end up with a world of clones. Women dressed as Middletons as far as the eye can see. Call it what you like but it isn't fashion. Fashion at it's best is about style, fun, individuality and risk. Keep the law and break the rules.