Thursday, 7 May 2015
After the ball is over...
Now, I may get to regret my words later and in many ways the forthcoming thoughts are more of a wish list than actual prediction, but given that the campaigning is effectively over (except in majority muslim communities where the electoral beatings will continue right up to the line) I am turning my attention to the leaders. Or, rather, where the leaders will likely be once the votes are counted; every ‘X’ in every box takes us one step closer to their political end times. So here goes with Old Battsby’s Almanac for post-election 2015. Release the tumbleweed…
Ed Miliband: Following a lacklustre final showing despite all the bully-boy tactics of Unite’s rent-a-mob, trained by the LEA (Lutfur’s Electoral Academy) Labour lose every seat in Scotland, much of the North of England and despite retaining shithole constituencies in Wales and East London it fails to turn its percentage into posts. Although coming second overall they can do nothing without the Scottish National Party, so Ed resigns in favour of pursuing the 'family' business: He and Justine take over the Kinnock’s lucrative EU jobs and discover they can actually do more to influence UK policy from an anonymous office in Brussels than they ever could in Downing Street. There they plot to continue the progressive decline begun under Harold Wilson.
Alex Salmond: Disappointed at Ed’s copping out, Wee Eck realises that the only the strings he can still pull are connected to Nicola Sturgeon and despite her fan-dabby-dozey support in Holyrood the SNP is still an also-ran without a Labour Party to blackmail. The unionists breathe a collective sigh of relief, unaware of the gathering sentiment south of the border for a truly independent Scotland. Oil prices remain low and after the English get their Scottish Independence referendum in 2016 the Scots economy relies once again on whisky and shortbread. Salmond is exiled, via a wee, bonnie boat, to Skye and never heard from again.
Nutty Natalie Bennett: Still the leader of the Green Party which now has a round number of MPs – zero. No challenger emerges to replace her because, well, the Greens just aren’t like that… you bully. Also, as few people can understand what she says, largely because they fall asleep within minutes of her opening her mouth, they figure that it would be unfair to remove her just in case she has got a credible policy struggling to get out.
Meanwhile a number of former safe seats fall with the result that the odious Douglas Alexander, the ginger Danny alexander and the titty-selfie-fixated Simon Danczuk all retire to run think tanks and quietly become rich in taxpayer-funded, self-congratulatory non-jobs. Russell Brand’s career goes into a slow decline until he ends up playing at provincial comedy clubs to dwindling audiences composed almost entirely of crack-bound pseudo-anarchists who still live with their ‘stupid parents’.
Nigel Farage: Naughty Nigel – just scrapes in at South Thanet despite Dan Hodges almost obsessive attempts to write him down in every column he has written since 2012. He presides over a Ukip parliamentary showing of seven MPs. Less than he wanted, but more than anybody had dared to predict. This is just enough to counter the few LibDem rebels in the coalition. Oh yes, because:
Nick Clegg: Remains Deputy Prime Minister after the Tories came to his defence in Sheffield Hallam. He still has to fag for George Osborne as part of the deal, holding his nose whenever he has to vote against all the natural instincts of his party; whatever they are. Nick continues to host ‘Call Clegg’ on LBC radio and is rumoured to be lining up a media career for the very near future. Nobody predicts he will retain his seat in 2020.
David Cameron: Once again Call-me-Dave manages to be Prime Minister despite not actually winning the election. He plans, as promised, to stand down before the end of the term, but he presides, as a broken man, over a coalition made up largely of fruitcakes, loonies and closet racists. There is still no sign of a referendum on membership of the EU any time soon.
Big Brother Dimbleby... always watching.
As always the only real winners are the Dimblebies of this world. The commentators, media hacks, columnists, bloggers, sketch writers and Andrew Neil Cobbley and all; Hodges, Toynbee, Jones, Marr, Robinson, Utley, Brooker, Letts et al are still at it. Proof, if proof were needed, that the best way to get rich in a gold rush is to sell shovels and blankets.