Peter Rhodes on a speculative fire, a misnamed gun and still no defeat for Putin

Yuletides are getting much of a muchness, all muggy, fuggy and tepid, with few blizzards or hurricanes to distinguish one from another.

For a few hours recently, the latest one looked like being distinguished as “The Christmas when Blackpool Tower burned down.” Fortunately, the “flames” reported by passers-by in the Lancastrian resort were no more than plastic strips blowing in the wind. Hindsight is a wonderful thing; it looked like a fire to me.