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Like the thieves who stole the glittering khazi, our memoir-hawking former prime minister seems to have got off scot-free
Like most people, I enjoyed the news of the theft of that gold toilet. I’m glad the gold toilet exists (or existed) and I’m glad it was stolen. After all, if it hadn’t been stolen, I probably wouldn’t know it exists. I’m also glad it was stolen from Blenheim Palace, that colossally vulgar stately home, because it’s exactly the kind of place you imagine might have gold toilets.
It only slightly spoils it that it doesn’t. The loos at Blenheim are, as far as I know, made from conventional materials. The gold loo, as well as being a loo, is a work of conceptual art and was part of an exhibition of other works of art that weren’t also loos, or also gold. So the gold loo wasn’t already there. Winston Churchill never s(h)at on it, though he was born just across the hall. On a non-gold bed, I regret to say. Continue reading...