Well, I am on notice that no electoral matters will be allowed
on the premises. ‘Her indoors’ has had a day filled with Labour & Tory General Election launches, pledges, manifestos, dossiers, claims, counter claims and outright
lies and bullshit. Me, I’ve been at work so I don’t get to hear any of it and I
truly miss the bullshit above all. From what I have managed to pick up both the
main parties have turned stark, staring mental.
I’ve heard a rumour that David Cameron threatened his
ministers with expulsion unless they back his pro-EU stance but then signalled
to Angela Merkel that he just might be prepared to campaign for out and then –
still rumour as far as I know – dangled the carrot of a referendum being
offered in 2016 instead of the end of 2017. If his plan is to run interference
with the scrambled brains of an already confused electorate then it’s working.
We don’t know if he’s in, out or shaken all about. Just imagine the confusion
as soon as he puts his left arm in…
Then there’s Labour. Their toothless attack dogs have
been frothing at the mouth since the start of the new year, spouting all sorts
of ridiculous charges against the Tories: they still eat babies, Iain Duncan
Smith personally kicks away the crutches of the disabled; George Osborne dances
and claps with joy when he sees misery and David Cameron user poor people as
literal doormats to keep his shoes clean. Meanwhile Labour’s grasp of economics
is still mired in fantasy and class war, Labour vowing to tax England more to
pay for nurses in a separate country, Scotland.
“Whatever anybody else promises you, we will promise more!”
seems to be Labour’s electoral strategy. Given the rabid outpourings of their
supporters it’s a gambit that may well pay off – after all, they have been
paying poor people for votes for far too long to abandon that successful
business model. So expect another 120 days of the electoral barrage as each
side abandons Britain’s real interests in order to muckrake, disparage and
generally gainsay the others. Add to this the Greens, Ukip, the SNP and whoever
is your local ‘third party’ and your doorbells will be ringing like a massed
band of marauding Krishnas.
They all want your vote and they’ll pretend to be your
friend to get it, which brings me to my second gripe. It seems that, confused
by a plethora of unusual rank insignia, British servicemen are opting to take
the lowest common denominator approach to recognising their superiors - treating
them as equals. The use of saluting and calling senior people ‘Sir’ is a part of
forces life and while it may sit uneasily with the egalitarians out there it is
merely a formal way of recognising the hierarchy necessary to run an efficient and
disciplined organisation.
Politicians and political activists would do well to
remember that. When they’re in office they may well acquire top-dog status and
be deserving of a deferential doff of the cap. But when they are on the
doorstep, grovelling for my ‘X’ they are the underdog and woe betide the smarmy
vote-seeker who dares to call me ‘mate’. Whatever your party colours, I’m not your mate and
you’re certainly not mine.
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