TO paraphrase the question asked of Paul Daniels by Mrs Merton: 'What first attracted multi-billionaire Jamsedji Tata to the classic Jaguar and Land Rover marques?' Well it was certainly not that they represented all that was broken or bad about British industry, far from it.
I seriously doubt the 'father of the Indian motor industry' was nostalgic for Sid James calling for a spot of tiffin or Kenneth Williams simultaneously stereotyping sub-continental potentates and Graham Norton.
Even so, the Tatas have found themselves in a right bail-out carry on.
I mean, you'd have bought the business wouldn't you? I would, in the same way that I would a pair of Purdey shotguns rather a side by side pea shooter.
Obviously, because I have lived in Oceania for so long, I would have understood that although this represented a significant contribution to British job security, the Ministry of Love would do its level best to tax my product off the agenda as a 'gas guzzler' and in so doing preserve the iconic status of the Fox's Glacier Mint wrapper.
Now it has come down to jobs and that means votes, so with no sense of irony, the same rag-bag Oliver's army of back benchers screaming polar bear murder wish to be associated with the remarks of the last speaker. The one who argued to save our car industry.
Jaguar-Land Rover is a national treasure. As English as crumpets and coming second.
It is rural and business Britain epitomised and while every farmer needs a Nissan or Toyota for important journeys, he must also own a Defender for taking his prettiest sheep to the dance.
And what is the point of being Mike Baldwin without the option to reward yourself with a Jag? An XF, for instance.
Firstly, let us deal with the theory that because the XF is a high-value luxury item, driving one will somehow cause swathes of tropical rain forest to up sticks and march on Greenland. The three-litre diesel returns a healthy 42mpg and registered on the carbon scale at below 200g/km.
Today, however, we will focus on the 298bhp 4.2 V8 petrol for which you will pay a hefty sub-28mpg at the pumps in return for 6.2 seconds to 60 acceleration and a significant level of driving pleasure. Carbon? Er, the words discreet and veil spring to mind.
Some see the XF as a kill or cure car for Jaguar, visually it moves away from relentlessly retro looks into the land of sleek Germanic lines. Inside the XF also abandons the wood panelled tradition of the Conservative club.
Press the starter button, yes you just knew it would have one, and the transmission selector rises from the centre console like Reginald Dixon's magnificent organ while air vents swivel into position. Welcome to the luxury car as a piece of contemporary theatre. Jaguar does Abba the ballet.
Obviously, having parted with £45,000, you can expect the full inventory of essentials and toys as standard features including recycled cow upholstery.
Out then, to the open road where XK undergarments guarantee a ride without drama, steering with plenty of feeling and motorway cruising in the armchair category.
The V8 is nigh on silent at rest but music to the ears when extended. All XFs get the 'Thunderbirds are go' gearbox complete with paddle shift.
Let's hope Jaguar weathers the storm. Especially now Lord Mantelpiece has joined the cast of Carry On Car Industry and promised, really, really, fingers crossed, promised that he will not see the business go under.
Which is about as reassuring as Barbara Windsor fronting a breast reduction campaign.