The Pledge is a weekly discussion group on Sky Television.  Each of the six members of the panel raises a subject of his or her own choice.  The idea is to be somewhat provocative and definitely relevant.  We find the programme unmissable.  It’s not that all the questions are necessarily of considerable interest and it is not that all the panellists are very appealing.  In fact there are at least two who we think don’t deserve to be part of the panel.  The panel mixture changes from week to week with perhaps two members on permanent duty.

Apart from recommending the programme because it is intellectually stimulating I want to tell you that I am madly in love with Michelle Dewberry.  It’s not because she was the winner of an Apprentice series but I might be somewhat influenced by her Yorkshire accent which I find very appealing.  Most of all, however, she is very smart and, in my opinion, the most interesting of all the panellists.  If anybody can arrange for me to meet her, I would be delighted.

To President Trump
@realDonaldTrump

Dear Mr President

Please do not imitate the frog’s dealings with the scorpion. Can you imagine being remembered as a green amphibian?

Holding out your hand to Mr Putin would be a retrograde  shake. You are facing a ruthless dictator who has structured his supporters by the use of his country’s resources.

If you’re in doubt take a tour of the outskirts of Moscow or St Petersburg or points beyond. Behind the facade is the ugly truth, the generally sordid living conditions of the average Russian.

Russia may be a country you want to do business with. I hope that makes sense but not with Mr Putin. You will get no fair dealing. He is a shrewd adversary who has proven himself more than a match for your rather mealy-mouthed predecessor and any of the principal European leaders.

It may not be an appealing comparison but Putin is an unworthy successor to Adolf Hitler.

We occasionally watch Al Jazeera and are generally impressed by the quality of its reporting.

Is there an inherent bias? Probably but then the media are full of bias, open or not.

Is Al Jazeera a good thing? Yes, even if the structure and management need modifying.

If we have to live with Pravda and similarities, we can certainly live with Al Jazeera. We need all the open debate we can get.

Is it likely that Qatar is financing terrorism directly or indirectly? I think we can take it that the US-Saudi-Bahraini-Egyptian axis knows what it is talking about.

Is Turkey a threat? Under Erdogan the country has all the hallmarks of a dictatorship. What about Iran? Although Mr Netanyahu’s commentaries may well have often been out of order, his negative views about the Iranian nuclear deal seem valid. A speculative deal with a potentially very dangerous adversary.

So to the extent that Qatar is funding any politically related expenditure in either of those two countries, the sooner it is stopped, the better.

But, let’s not ban Al Jazeera. It can and should be a measure for interesting and positive expression.

Saudi Arabia and Israel may never become close relatives but they may well become good friends. There’s nothing like common interests to stimulate companionship.

The most recent development, isolating Qatar from its nearest neighbours may be a pointer. The recognition by Donald Trump of the importance and value of the relationship between the USA and Israel is to be much appreciated.

As someone who takes the view that ex President Obama and his colleagues were both clueless and apathetic about foreign policy, I feel that President Trump may readily be criticised for shooting his mouth off. But his forthright approach to China and North Korea, his attitude towards NATO’s costs and his recent visit to the Middle East speak volumes in his favour.

I write not with rose-coloured glasses: he might do much better to suggest that Jerusalem should be an international religious centre, rather like the Vatican. He certainly needs to take a very tough line towards Russia (especially the rather megalomaniac Putin who appears to model himself on a money grabbing version of Adolf Hitler.)  Then there’s Syria, with Turkey (Erdogan) lurking in the wings.

So even more does it make sense for Saudi Arabia and Israel to pull together. It might even be possible to combine the wealth of the former with the aptitude of the latter to solve the otherwise intractable problem of the Palestinians.

Sometimes I think I was unlucky just to miss compulsory National Service in the UK.  It just ended as I was about to enter Trinity College, Oxford.  My record at Oxford was appalling, far from justifying the scholarship which the College mistakenly awarded me.  I spent most of my time playing poker (badly) or bridge (reasonably well).  My essays were generally completed from the Encyclopaedia Britannica.  I think two years National Service might well have straightened me out.

There was some compensation, although not very desirable, in 1963.  By then I was in New York working for Grey Advertising in the media department.  In that department was a rather attractive young lady who appeared to be untouchable.  This of course was temptation which I couldn’t resist.  We became friends.  We became lovers.  We used to take her small daughter to Sunday lunch at the Plaza Hotel.  It was bliss.  But it came with a curse.

The curse was the US Army and why should I have been eligible?  It was because arriving in New York with a Green Card gave me six months licence to decide if I wanted to stay in the US.  At that point I needed to register for the draft.  Remember this was the height of the Vietnam War.  So I attended a group medical.  What a levelling experience that was but I won’t go into detail.  I passed A1.  Clearly the army was desperate.  My friends warned me of the consequences of doing nothing.

One morning I went to the post box and received a personal letter (perhaps it wasn’t personal) ‘Greetings from the President of the United States.  You will report for active duty …’  Whoops.  Off I rushed to the Armory, 65^th Street & Park Avenue, to register with the National Guard.  In principle this involved six months active duty, followed by about six years in reserve.  Thanks goodness for me and for the army that my active duty was deferred.  All that was involved in principle was weekly attendance at the Armory when it seemed that the activity concentrated on moving rifles from point A to point B and then from point B to point A.  Immensely educational.

Then came the denouement.  It was a weekend session when the Gauleiter was a regularly army sergeant from Fort Bragg in north or south Carolina, I forget which.  My girlfriend was invited to a dinner party.  I was jealous.  She wasn’t standing for my jealousy.  I may say for good reason.  Rapid end of relationship.

Meanwhile shades of the movie ‘Officer and a Gentleman’ which, by the way, I strongly recommend if you have never seen it.  There was our regular sergeant ‘We have snakes at Fort Bragg.  If your buddy gets bitten by a snake on his forearm, quickly put on a tourniquet (in his case pronounced with the ‘t’ at the end).  If you haven’t time to make a tourniquet, chop his arm off.’

Was this a place for a nice, north-west London Jewish boy?  Think of the movie and the recruit who admits that he comes from Nebraska.  Comment by the sergeant ‘Only two things come from Nebraska.  Steers or queers.  Which one are you?’  Fortunately I followed the rules.  My family wrote to say that I was need back at home and I was rewarded with an Honorable Discharge.  I was lucky and why was the army lucky?  Because when I was in the Cadet Corp at St Paul’s in London we had a visiting army officer to watch us shoot on the range.  At the end he turned to me and said ‘Well, in your case, Newton, I wouldn’t mind if you were on the enemy’s side’.

What is it that empowers and destroys on the sports field? I’m watching the frequently brilliant South African cricket team (the Proteas) doing its best to destroy itself against a very professional Indian side.

Suppose that you are batting first and you feel that your side needs to score at least 300 to have a good chance of winning (it’s a 50 overs match). Your two openers make a solid but rather stolid start, losing the first wicket at 75 with a run rate of only about 4 per over. Amla has gone for 35.

Then the spinner, Jadeja, gets de Kock to knick the ball, caught behind for 53. Maybe the commentator who said that whenever de Kock reaches a half century he carries in to make a 100 produced the kiss of death.

So there were du Plessis and de Villiers at the crease. Two of the most experienced and well regarded South African batsmen. But now they feel the need to force the pace.

Disaster! De Villiers gets himself run out. Miller gets involved in a terrible mix up and is run out. Then du Plessis gets caught. Then Morris is caught for only 4 and it’s 167 for 6 after 35 overs.

Such is the impact of the psychology of nerves and impatience and apparent insecurity. Too many risks for very little reward. Some extraordinarily poor judgment. At this stage South Africa needs a lot of luck, a lot of guts and the utmost determination. I’m hoping! No such luck. Defeated and destroyed!

‘How important is teamwork? You might be forgiven, as a Tory voter, for concluding that it didn’t seem to be relevant during the recent election campaign.

Mrs May’s closest advisors apparently seemed to think that they were entitled to run the show. I wonder how the Godfather would have reacted if his consigliere had tried to take over!

Perhaps the point is that Mrs May’s lack of experience as Prime Minister and the alleged ego of her two closest advisors combined to produce the unmitigated disaster I referred to in my previous post.

According to published remarks by some of Mrs May’s ministers, her two advisors had little or no clue about teamwork. They apparently discarded any input from even the most senior ministers. Probably this adds weight to the argument that Mrs May made a serious mistake in calling the election. Too soon! Too risky!

Teamwork really matters. The proof of that pudding is in not eating it.’

The Election: what an unmitigated disaster! An alliance with the DUP: what a piece of uncomfortable sticking plaster! Is this the way forward? Just look at the alternative: a surely unworkable multi-coalition under Jeremy Corbyn. It’s true that he cleaned up nicely and was effective during the campaign. But what do he and his socialist colleagues have in mind? Hardly bears thinking about!

The Tory/DUP alliance won’t survive long. Then what? It’s a mess. What I conclude is that the sensible but not very shrewd Mrs May was incredibly badly advised by Ms Hill and Mr Timothy. They have gone but who will replace them? Is Theresa up to the role of Brexit negotiations?

As for Ms Caviar, she must surely be on the way out. Arguably too sure of herself. Oh dear, maybe it will be Ruth Davidson from the Tory party in Scotland who will emerge as primus inter pares.

Finally, Kensington and Chelsea!! To paraphrase ‘to lose one seat may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose Kensington and Chelsea looks like carelessness’.

Many moons ago my neurologist sent me for a MRI because she was worried about my balance, or should I say imbalance?  Alessandra frequently tells that I engage in the Ministry of Funny Walks.  The result of the MRI suggested that I might have MS.  The neurologist put me on a week’s course of cortisone treatment.

Day 1 at the Milpark Hospital.  Needle inserted.  Drip added.  Three hours later, though goodness knows why so long, the drip is ended but the needle stays pending the next day.

I can’t sleep that night.  Up to my office (at home) at midnight.  Three hours later I go back to bed.  On the bed are two bears.  Mine is lying flat with its back to Alessandra and facing me.  Her bear has its back on the headboard.  I lie down to go to sleep.  I look at my bear.  It’s breathing with its eyes rolling and stomach gently heaving.  I look away.  I look back.  The bear is still breathing.  I look away.  I look back.  The bear is still breathing.

Oh dear.  I decide to look at Alessandra’s bear and guess what?  It puts its tongue out at me!  What on earth is going on?  As soon as I reach the hospital on Day 2 I check the side effects.  Death is a very small possibility but hallucinations are common.  Imagine that I had the bears on my mind and I was driving.  What then?

After various fits and starts last year my neurologist confirmed that in her opinion I have Multiple Sclerosis (MS). The generic description is demyelination and there is no doubt that my brain has lost a lot of its protective sheath.

Now the thing is that I’ve probably had MS for upwards of 40 years, from an age when such a diagnosis is more common. My balance has never been good. I’m often described as a member of the Ministry of Funny Walks.

My sense of rhythm might do credit to a one-legged giraffe. I can be irritable and insecure. I suffer from frequent bouts of fatigue.

What goes through my mind is whether these are genuine symptoms of MS or its consequences?

More tests via a perhaps overdue lumbar puncture. Meanwhile, little or no fatigue but plenty of mental discombobulation.