Actions of buffoons are a load of old bull

Published on Tuesday 15 July 2008 10:29

I CAN'T claim any great friendship or knowledge of bulls, but I do know about their hit, if you see what I mean. The past few days have seen the usual "thrilling" television coverage of the so-called Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain. This involves a bunch of bulls being released into a section of the city where the side-streets have been cordoned off, creating an avenue down which the bulls will thunder.

Preceding the bulls are a bunch of locals, elegantly decked out in white outfits with a red band. Their aim is to not be gored or trampled by the rampaging torrent of bulls.

Ever since Ernest Hemingway wrote about the running of the bulls, an increasing number of non-Spaniards have chosen to seek the thrill of joining in. Every now and then – including this year – a non-Spaniard gets done in by one of the bulls; 15 people have died during the running of the bulls, the last being an American tourist in 1995.

It's difficult to have much sympathy for these casualties. No-one forced them to get involved. Unlike the bulls, who will sooner or later die at human hands without the option of voluntary, thrilling escapades.

Unlike the local Spanish participants – who can at least claim that they are in some way protecting or prolonging a centuries-old tradition of taunting hapless bulls – the non-Spaniards are nothing more than middle-class buffoons desperate to stake some claim on bravery and/or recklessness. I've thrown in the term middle-class primarily to annoy and patronise, but also to be accurate; I would willingly bet that most of the non-Spanish participants don't speak with the working-class accent of whatever country they come from. Middle-class people often need things like running with the bulls to make them feel either alive or part of something or clever. Like bungee jumping and other equally-cerebral activities.

There's another reason why I don't like the foreigners that take part in the bull-running; they are often incorrectly dressed. A lot of the pictures from the scene show young men wearing jeans and a scabby T-shirt and looking as much part of the scene as a chicken at a wedding. I can just about tolerate the Spaniards doing their traditional bull-baiting in an elegant, white-with-red-band way, but blokes in morning-after outfits running alongside them somewhat spoil the view.

There's a version of Running with Bulls in New Orleans, Louisiana, that involves women on roller blades skating through the streets and whacking people with large plastic bats. This seems far more fun and involves fewer bull deaths. Surely Edinburgh could invent a similar running with the bulls tradition – maybe Running with the Neds down the Royal Mile, pursued by police serving asbos. The possibilities are endless and that's no bull.

Booze hypocrisy

Maybe you've heard of Tokyo, a blow-your-pants-off 12 per cent strength Scottish beer. Naturally, the drink-sodden state of modern Scotland means that the Usual Handwringers have to stand on the street corner wailing about the imminent destruction of the nation by the Fraserburgh-based brewery, Brewdog.

Their crime is – apparently – to have created a bottle-based alcohol product that costs four quid for 330ml. That is to say, a product that costs more than any number of cheap wines available from Asda, Thresher or your local corner shop, while delivering almost half the alcohol of that bottle of wine. If Brewdog is being strung up in the press for its bottled crime spree, then presumably as I write there are trucks on the way to round up all those who man the tills at Tesco.

A word to the supposedly wise, particularly those arch-pontificators such as politicians and public health administrators; blaming a small company for your failure to educate people not to abuse alcohol is nothing less than hypocritical and just short of disgusting. While some products, such as Buckfast, have little place other than as the fast route to oblivion, others, such as Tokyo ale, can genuinely claim to be about something else. Belgium as a small country is packed full of equally potent products. Perhaps we should import their health legislators and civil servants to tackle a problem that is obviously beyond our bureaucratic numpties.

Liven up the journey

There's a Chilean wifie who got bored with the journeys on the Santiago underground and took to stripping off to perform an impromptu pole dance. It certainly beats Sudoku. I can't believe that there aren't a great many Edinburgh housewives – or househusbands – who are equally bored with their journeys and who would – should they be available – take to the pole with equal delight. Providing a pole or two would surely be a better way for First and Lothian to compete, rather than mere price. We need the tourists too.