Simon Hoggart's Week: May Your Baubles Hang Better

The Tories have started talking about "Italian" levels of this or that, as a way of illustrating how low Gordon Brown has brought us. But why Italy? I compiled a helpful list. Against Italy: government corrupt from top to bottom; huge debt; many public services hopeless; organized crime runs large parts of the south; ultra-right breakaway movement in the north. For Italy: gorgeous scenery; wonderful weather; brilliant motorways; the best food in Europe; and much of the best wine, painting, music and architecture, unmatched in the world. I think I might settle for that, whatever David Cameron thinks.

Conor Cruise O'Brien was, for years, a colleague on the Observer, though he always lived in Ireland. He was a great toper, but made more sense when drunk than most of us while sober. His great theme, brilliantly expatiated, was the corrosive effect of Irish national mythology on the politics of the present day. I remember seven or so of us having a terrific session in the new El Vino's in Blackfriars. The Cruiser had reached the stage that he had stopped drinking, but he always insisted on receiving another glass of red at each round.

My colleagues slipped away home before closing time, 8.15pm, and we were left alone. He solemnly drank the half dozen glasses in front of him, while distributing fascinating insights into the Northern Ireland problem as casually as crisps. Then he tottered to the door with me behind, waiting to catch him. Thank heavens, the orange light of a taxi loomed up, and I thought I had better find out where he was staying. "With my son," he said gravely. "I know your son," I said, "he's a very nice bloke."

Suddenly the red mist came down. He grabbed my lapels and stared at me, eyes blazing with anger. "I. Know. That!" he shouted, then gave a perfectly coherent address to the cabbie and climbed safely aboard.

Research at Heriot-Watt University suggests that many people are disappointed when their marriages aren't as blissful as the unions shown in romantic films. It's a real problem. Maybe the DVD "extras" should now include scenes of what happened later. In Notting Hill, Julia Roberts really goes off Hugh Grant when it turns out that he is always saying, "yes," and "hmmm" and "I see" when, it turns out, he hasn't listened to a word she's been saying!

Mr Darcy is looking forward to his wedding night, when Elizabeth takes out half a dozen cuddly toys, all with winsome names like Snookly, and insists on lining them up on the pillow. Or we could all have to watch On Chesil Beach, where it all goes horribly wrong from day one.

Lunch with my old friend and colleague David McKie, who wrote the biography of Jabez Balfour, the great Victorian fraudster who ruined so many thousands of people. He points out the many similarities with Benjamin Madoff. Both made sure that only family and trusted patsies had access to the books. (Jabez used his tailor and a retired priest, neither of whom knew anything about high finance.) Both knew how important it was to look prosperous even when things were on the brink. Both offered impossibly high rates of return without giving any reason for their apparent success. Both were exposed by recessions; when people wanted their money back, they found it wasn't there. They took in many, many otherwise clever people, going to prove that with bankers the main problems include not only greed, but unfathomable stupidity.

Last week I mentioned that Lord Saville, he of the £187m Bloody Sunday inquiry, had declined to appear before the Northern Ireland select committee. I harrumphed that the committee would probably not insist on him coming. In fact they can't - as a peer, he can legally decline. Which if anything makes things worse.

I promised a round-up of terrible Christmas presents from catalogs, so here it is. The musical tie (£5.80) "will be a real hit at any Christmas party. It flashes and plays two Christmas carols. Made of 100% polyester, fully lined for solidity." Or, for just £23.99, a 9cm high Christmas tree has a secret jewelery compartment inside, designed to fool very stupid burglars. John Lewis sells an upside-down Christmas tree which rests on its apex - £75. "Saves floor space, and your baubles hang better." Always good news when your baubles hang better.

For £5.50 you can get a dishwasher-safe mug with a picture of a kitten, which mews when you pick it up. A thief-proof coffee mug at £8.99 includes a plug which you keep in your pocket. Without the plug, drinks just drain away! Say goodbye to "borrowed" mug misery! And £6.99 buys you a set of fake tattoo sleeves, which make it look as if your arms are engraved with multicolored patterns. "Comfortable to wear. Reusable."

The banana guard, £4.99, is yellow and hollow and shaped like a banana. Make unguarded bananas a thing of the past! A set of jokey golf balls, which disappear, explode, or emit a stream of ribbons when your friends hit them - £8.99, which would be a bit of a waste if you weren't there to watch. For seriously lazy people, the automatic spaghetti fork costs £4.99 and twirls the pasta round itself. (Batteries not included.) A fake chrome-plated chain (actually in a rigid shape) has a loop; you put the neck of a wine bottle through it and it looks as if it's hanging in the air! Yours for £24.95 - a great way to serve that Chateau Latour 1990.

Most expensive ludicrous gift I've seen is a Perspex box for a dog, lined with a soft cushion. For £699 you'd think your mutt would get real fabric to lie on; in fact the cushion is made of "faux suede". Thanks to all readers who sent in these monstrosities - I hope you find none in your stockings.