What do you make of Owen Smith? Ian, Paisley

IAN, it’s ironic that Labour went to war with other nations to enforce regime change when it’s something they have so much trouble with themselves. The recent leadership battle between Jeremy Corbyn and Owen Smith has been a bit like watching two people rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic. I say

“a bit” because that example at least sounds reasonably exciting, and “exciting” is not a word I would associate with Owen Smith.

On the contrary, Mr Smith has evolved my very understanding of boring. In my view, Jeremy Corbyn is one of a kind, while Owen Smith looks like he’s come off of a production line. He could literally be a cardboard cut-out. If Smith went double dating with a sandbag, the sandbag would be the charmer.

This is somewhat ironic, as his Blairite leanings would make one think he’d embody the personality politics that Tony Blair introduced to Britain in the late 1990s.

Quite the opposite in this case – I’ve met cabbages with more personality than Owen Smith.

He’s an insomniac’s dream. If charisma was a virus, he’s the cure!

Smith not only lacks the necessary allure for leadership, but seemingly the intelligence and responsiveness too. At a recent rally, Smith labelled Corbyn a “lunatic”. Despite this, Smith has seen fit to suggest that he would be happy to speak at a Corbyn rally. This is a perhaps an instance in which Smith has shown a modicum of common sense. After all, Jeremy Corbyn’s rallies tend to attract thousands of attendees, while Smith’s gatherings struggle to attract more than a few dozen at a time. While Jeremy Corbyn appears to be a box office draw, Smith could hardly get arrested if he tried.

Seemingly this is a man who will happily use other people in order to to climb his way to the top. Smith’s brand of autocratic tunnel vision appears to be the new standard operating procedure amid the Parliamentary Labour Party ranks. We are living in an age where Labour Party memberships are being rejected and suspended due to people expressing views not consistent with Blairite thinking. You see, the Labour Party doesn’t want people like you. They want people like Owen Smith who will shut up and do as he is told. Even those who are able to join Labour aren’t allowed to vote on who its leader should be. So, what’s the point? Joining a party that won’t allow you to vote is like going to a pub that won’t serve you drink!

If you ask me, New Labour seem determined to abandon the veneer of being a political party altogether, instead wishing to adopt the traits of a secret society. If Blairites get their way, they will represent only each other, not the people of Britain. How this can be conducive to election success is well and truly beyond me.

Nevertheless, Owen Smith has claimed that such an approach will allow him to “fight the Tories”. Consider, for a moment, that you can be expelled from Labour if you have expressed support for another left-wing party, yet are welcomed with open arms if you’ve written for a right-wing newspaper. To me, New Labour merely represents the illusion of choice between Tories and an opposition. Blairites are not interested in democracy, nor your views on the matter. In an age in which tolerance and acceptance are increasingly important, the Labour Party are very much bucking the trend. It seems very much as though Owen Smith is the last throw of the dice from the Parliamentary Labour Party, who have made it their mission to remove Corbyn and appoint someone “electable”. However, much to their annoyance, Corbyn appears to be happy to invite any and all comers to step up.

2016 has been a terrible year for deaths, hasn’t it? - Susan, Partick

It certainly has been a dreadful time for bereavements, Susan. From Bowie to Rickman to Prince, it has been a bad year for good people. Earlier this week, the world lost the great Gene Wilder, an actor whose natural talent and brilliant humanity brought us acres of laughter and joy over the years.

It was in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory that Wilder received his greatest acclaim as the wonderfully eccentric Willy Wonka, but Wilder’s screen talents knew no bounds. Making a name for himself in the films of Mel Brooks, Wilder brought a unique and crazed beauty to American cinema. In my view, Blazing Saddles is one of the funniest movies ever made, and I’d challenge anyone to sit through any of Gene’s films with the late Richard Pryor without doubling over in laughter repeatedly. He was the master of the comedic pause and his voice could express five emotions all at once!

However, in many ways, Gene Wilder didn’t fit the typical actor mould at all. Wilder lived his life with a quiet dignity, refusing to be bought and sold by the corrupting figures that shaped the world around him. He would be the first to tell you that he “loved the show” and “hated the business”. For him, acting was art, and a spectacular way to make a visceral connection with other human beings. His desire to become a performer stemmed from wanting to make his mother laugh as a child, and that urge to entertain with love never left him.

Away from the acting business, Wilder remained a private figure who enjoyed writing, painting and being around his family. In addition, he dedicated a great deal of time to humanitarian efforts, including Gilda’s Club, a charity he founded in remembrance of his wife, comedienne Gilda Radner, who died of cancer in 1989. Even in ill health in his own final years, Wilder’s consideration for his fans was incredible, choosing to keep his suffering private for the sake of younger followers.

Some might say that laughter is the greatest gift you can give to the world. Gene Wilder gave plenty of that and a whole lot more. This, perhaps, is the biggest victory of all in life. If death is to mean more than just an ending, it should mean that we learn from lives lived well, like that of Mr Wilder.