Going for a song.

In Aladdin, there is a fundamental flaw in Abanazer’s plan to get his hands on the magic lamp. New lamps for old; something for nothing? It makes no sense - who would fall for that? Well, every year we all do, willingly, as the familiar scenes of yore play out on the stage. “He’s behind you!” we cry and “Oh no he isn’t!” What a hoot and how illogical it all is. Thank goodness we don’t conduct our everyday lives like that. But wait, someone’s coming!

Oh, it’s okay, it’s just the ugly sisters, Harriet and Yvette, spinning some poison against poor old Baron Osborne and being mean to Nadine. The Labour Party, in the role of the broker’s men eagerly grab whatever small victories they can and meanwhile Boris ‘Buttons’ Johnson takes up the slack as comic relief. It’s a right pantomime is British politics and currently playing the dame, David Cameron is desperate to give his Twanky a good airing in Brussels. What a crock. (I said crock) 

How about new MPs for old? Or better yet, why not go for OLD MPs for new? Because all any of them seem to do nowadays is spout the same old rubbish and as far as I can see, the next election will be fought entirely on the same tired old stereotypes with hardly a policy to be seen: Labour will be portrayed as the fiscal simpletons who believe in magic beans, while calling every government policy a tax. The Conservatives will be the potless Toffs, hooraying it up as the manor roof falls in and blaming the previous owners. The Libdems will provide noises off and the occasional pratfall and the Greens will play the part of ‘a tree’ all the way through the second act. 

UKIP will, of course, be cast as some form of throwback pirate racist, sporting an eye patch and cutlass and leading a Blackamoor on a leash. Secretly, the audience will want to cheer for them and subvert the plot, but the conventions of pantomime are etched in stone and they must instead boo and hiss, lead on by Bonnie fucking Tyler as Dick Wittington. Or is that Eurovision? As if it makes any difference. 

Because in politics, as in pantomime, even though we all know how it’s going to end, we suspend disbelief for the duration of the performance. We know Nigel Farage doesn’t eat roasted black babies for breakfast. We know George Osborne doesn’t dine on swan, probably, and we’re damned sure Ed Miliband doesn’t know one end of a Findus crispy pantomime horse pancake from the other. (Nobody knows what Clegg stands for - he's a LimpDem, after all.)

The propaganda machines of the three main parties will concentrate not on the truth, not on what is best for Britain, but whatever maintains the good old traditions of the political pantomime. They will swashbuckle their way into the final act, knowing that, even when somebody fluffs their lines or misses their cue, the audience will cheer them on to the same old ending – the one where Brussels always wins and we remain Britain Hardup in perpetuity. 

So you lot out there - yes, you - if a vote for Lib/Lab/Con is a vote for the EUSSR and this time you don't want the same old ending, you have a duty to listen and learn and wise up. Don't let the curtain fall on British sovereignty.

But who gets your vote?

So, come on Nigel, buff up that eye patch, shampoo your parrot (not a euphemism) grab a flagon of grog and let’s go for a last act with fireworks. If the EU is going to win anyway, we can at least give them a bloody nose in the process!