WHAT on earth has happened to Peter Karran?
To be honest, a realisation last week has left me feeling let down.
No, I’m not talking specifically about his political transformation, from gregarious-but-angry-seagull flapping his wings in opposition, to a hermit minister hiding away in his Department of Education cave.
I mean his hair.
I looked at a new picture of him last week (at an event where he ventured as far as Ballakermeen High School, which has to be a good six hundred yards from his office), and almost fell off my chair in surprise.
Either his head has doubled in size or half of his hair has gone!
Perhaps the stress of his new high-flying lifestyle has had a dramatic – and rapid – impact on Peter’s pate.
Or he’s been using a comb-forward to good effect for the last couple of years.
The truth, as confirmed by our photographer, was that on this particular day, it had been rather breezy and, unfortunately for Peter, nobody warned him that the wind of change the minister has been bringing into Manx politics had been blowing in the wrong direction.
In one particular shot, he had perfected the dotty professor look, which may be an avenue he wishes to pursue in the future.
The new look has been causing a lot of excitement in the island, with much speculation as to what has happened.
As one political observer whispered to me, after recovering from the shock of Mr Karran’s new image (I admit, I was so excited, I emailed the picture to fellows of the secret organisation to which I belong before it had even been published), Peter Karran now bears a striking resemblance to Art Garfunkel, well-known rabbit balladeer and half of one of the best songwriting duos in history.
It’s worth noting that Art Garfunkel, of course, appeared in the film Catch-22, based on Joseph Heller’s book about a rule that doesn’t exist but, because people behave as though it actually does, then it causes all sorts of problems for them.
There is a serious issue at stake here, though. It’s that, despite only ever wearing a Liberal Vannin-yellow tie, presumably in an attempt similar to children of the 60s wrapping their heads in tinfoil to combat the evil rays of aliens, some shards of government life have battled through his defences and the effect on Peter Karran’s hairline has been significant.
Then look at the rest of the cabinet. Quite a few require hats in the sunshine.
And I don’t think Allan Bell could argue that his forehead was not smaller 20 years ago.
John Shimmin should be very careful, while Tim Crookall’s barnet has, to be frank, looked like it’s ready to take off for another planet for quite some time. Not that a different planet is anything unusal for a member of the Council of Ministers.
Phil Gawne appears to have a good thatch on his head, but I’d like to think that if it ever went, it would result in a rather showy, round bald patch on his crown, looking not unlike the former Ballakillowey crossroads.
So what effect would a ministerial role have on others should they gain promotion? Alfie Cannan is following in his father’s footsteps. A ministerial position could speed things up in the hair loss department and ensure he looks a little less like he’s walked off the set of a Guy Ritchie movie.
Perhaps that would mean a slighly less antagonistic stance towards the unions.
At present it doesn’t take the greatest leap in imagination to picture his negotiation room to be a dark place at the back of a nightclub, with a felt- covered card table separating him from Angela Moffatt as heavies from both sides look on and discussions consist of phrases such as ‘sort it aahhht’ and ‘you’re bang out of order’; all to a backdrop of unfeasibly cool music and slightly queasy camera angles.
The risk, of cause, of an accelerated hair departure in Michael is that Alfie could look like Mr Burns a little sooner than he would like.
Should Bill Henderson – not the most hirsute of heads in the House of Keys – find himself with a ministerial position, what would the effect be?
Could it perhaps work in reverse, and give him a full head of hair?
I do hope so. I suspect the result would be that he would end up looking like Oddbod Junior from Carry On Screaming, which is what we feel like doing after hearing him sometimes.
And please, please, please, could we give Brenda Cannell a ministerial position just to find out how it would affect her?
She’d have to mitigate the effect with a buzz cut, probably. At first I thought of Sinead O’Connor, but I think Ripley from Alien might be more appropriate. After all, Brenda’s always fighting monsters that not everyone else believes exist.