5th March 2026 and it’s world book day, HUZZAH! I thought I’d share a book I loved reading growing up, St. Trinians.

As a young lad I was in the Boy’s Brigade, and we loved a jumble sale, at one such fund-raiser I bought a whole bunch of the St. Trinian’s books becuase I liked the cartoons by Searle. The stories were fun too, and I imagined getting up to all sorts of mischief, then crumpets for tea.

Then I saw the old (black n white) movies and it just made me love them even more (the modern ones are a travesty…).

George Cole’s iconic Flash Harry in the original St. Trinian‘s movies was a character that loomed large in my childhood movie watching. His spiv-wiv-a-heart, snide demeanour, and graceless charm had a swagger that one warmed too. Capable but somehow clueless.

Whenever he walked on screen the soundtrack was always jangling barrel organ, a jaunty pianola that owed a lot to Russ Conway and Mrs. Mills. The music of a “Boozer”; note to non-uk friends, a “boozer” is very different to a pub. (It requires too much social context to explain here, go ask a tame Brit).

Unlit “Fag” (again non-Brits ask their local Brit) hanging out the side of his mouth. His gait started from his padded shoulders, his coat hanging to mid-calf. Collar flicked up, hat pulled down, hiding shifty eyes and a moustache so thin it was in danger of cutting you.

The echoes of this character can be seen in George Cole’s more widely know character creation, Arthur Daley (pictured). A man so dodgy that when you shook on a deal you’d best count your fingers and ensure you still have all your rings. Quicker round a corner than Stirling Moss, there wasn’t a shortcut this wideboy didn’t know!

This character is ground zero for the cliche of the Jag driving, sheepskin coat wearing, battered trilby, fat cigar puffing, secondhand car salesman. Second only to Swiss Tony in pantheon of comedy car salesmen.

The lovable rogue with a heart-of-gold, and a soft-side image that is 80% dodgy dealer and 25% incompetent buffoon with a loose grasp on the numbers and a looser grasp on the ethics of a deal.

That’s Nigel Farage’s entire schtick.

He’s not a lovable rogue he is in fact an unconscionable shit.

Happy World Book Day, fight the fascists.