Vazian

Yesterday I was at a remote village on top of the internal cliff that runs through the county.

After Holy Communion, when everyone had gone for coffee, I went up into the gallery at the west end. This gallery had been used in the 18th century by the "band" (fiddles, flutes etc) that played music at church services. Then in the 19th century the church purchased an organ and the band was ceased (Hardy writes about this in Under The Greenwood Tree).

The lord of the manor moved up into the gallery and turned it into a family pew, which function it still performs today. You can see it has been decorated with red plush in the manner of an opera box. A fireplace has been put in. The volumes you can see are the family's prayer books. There is a table for refreshments. The family's Coronation chairs have been put up there in an absent-minded grand gesture.

I sat on one of the Coronation chairs and thought of the expenses row currently convulsing Westminster.

I have often noticed that genuine aristocracy inhabit environments that are shabby and threadbare, whereas the nouveau riche strive for a perfection of appearance that (by trying too hard) usually betrays their social ambitions.

Can you imagine the opulence with which Keith Vaz would decorate this gallery were he to become lord of the manor? This is not so improbable an idea since many people suspect he covets a seat in the Upper House. Were the outrageously-expensive silk cushions he bought at our expense dyed with Tyrian purple and edged with ermine (you would think they were, judging by the price he - sorry we, paid for them).

I attempted to understand the underlying motivation of MPs who insist on every bathrobe, plastic bag and light bulb being charged to those who (mostly) have so pitifully little wealth in comparison. Were those silk cushions more delectable for having been bought at the expense of the people he is meant to serve? Is that what this is all about?

On the spur of the moment I invented the word vazian to describe the enjoyment gained from an object paid for by someone else. It is not enough for things to be luxurious in themselves, there must also be an added frisson of power encoded in the purchase that demonstrates the superiority of the honourable and right honourable members. By reclining on these silk cushions (the argument goes) I am reclining upon the prostrate kow-towing bodies of those who owe me deference and esteem.

This is not to single out Keith Vaz (I keep wanting to call him Sir Keith Vaz, so thoroughly has he projected his importance). The mole-catching activities of Sir John Gummer are just as reprehensible. The "flipping" activities of other MPs are genuinely criminal tax dodges (except that they are not criminal - they are "within the rules").

And there are thousands and thousands of other examples I could quote.

Speaking personally, I am not angry with the rapacious greed of our MPs. I feel I understand them (for we are all greedy on occasion), and so I forgive them. But millions will not.

I am not sure who is collectively advising the MPs, but they must be made to realise the game is up - at least for a while. And they must not even think about increasing their salaries to "compensate" for the loss of the expenses scam. Otherwise their windows will be smashed, their cars vandalised, and people will spit and swear at them in the streets.