Sunday 26 April 2015

24. The Election (original title, huh?)

Have you heard this rumour going round, that there's going to be a General Election?

Yeah, me too.

So what do you reckon to the line up?

I'm guessing we can all agree to disregard the gurning buffoon that is Farage, along with his loathsome views? Thought so.

Which leaves us with the rest, and I'm not sure where to go from there.

For me, one of the big problems of the campaign is this insidious trend towards the cult of personality.  It crept over here from America, as most bad habits do, like Trick or Treat. In my day Halloween was marked by bobbing for an apple in a bowl of water whilst inhaling and the aroma of singed turnip. We didn't go round terrorising the neighbours and demanding stuff. I don't know why we fall for this crap. It isn't better, it's just....crap. Basically, it's down to marketing again and you know how I just LOVE marketing?!

But back to the Election. I don't know about you but I don't give a flying fuck about the size of Ed Miliband's kitchen or, for that matter, exactly how many kitchens he's got. I don't care. I'm not interested. It doesn't help me one iota in deciding whether or not he'd make a good Prime Minister. And I'm damned sure the column inches could be put to far better use

Let's go back a bit. Did anybody show any interest in the size of Disraeli's kitchen? No. Was anybody commenting on the fact that Mrs. Gladstone's bum looked big in that frock she wore at the party conference? Of course not. Did the Atlee's have their parenting skills put under the microscope? I doubt it. The candidate and their policies were all that mattered. And rightly so.

Now, the Daily Mail thinks it's the height of wit to point out that Mr. Miliband has a passing resemblance to an Ardmann animation character. So what? Explain it to me.  I'm not saying they're mistaken, just that it's not relevant.

Yeah, I know, I'm guilty of enjoying some of that vaguely insulting stuff too. When the wonderful Charlie Brooker made a reference to David Cameron's '...big, ham head...' it was so perfect I wept. But it had nothing to do with his fitness to be elected for a further term. Frankly, I think it's all too obvious why he falls down on that front, and it's nothing to do with what his head looks like. It's all down to the rubbish he talks out of it, but that's just my opinion.

History fails to relate how Churchill tackled a bacon sandwich, but the I'm sure the people of worn-torn Britain were more interested in his ability to lead the country. As long as he came up with the goods when needed I doubt they'd have cared if he'd inhaled his porridge up his bottom. And whilst it must have been obvious to everybody that he drank, smoked and ate too much, the killjoy brigade kept their opinions to themselves, as indeed they should.  I'm not actually a great fan of the man myself but he's a good example of how we used to judge our politicians by how they did the job, and little else. Oh, that it were still the case.

It's the women I feel sorriest for. All those male pundits just gagging to have a pop at how high the heel, how low the neckline, how fuckable the candidate. If they paid as much attention to their words as they do to their appearance we might get some useful insights and analysis. From what I've seen of them, in debate alongside the men, they're all wonderful! Whilst the blokes engaged in playground standard insults and point scoring the women stuck with answering the questions. If we could have a coalition of Leanne Wood, Natalie Bennett and Nicola Sturgeon in Downing Street I'd go for that. And I'm not going to make any cheap remarks about how they'd synchronise their menstrual cycles and settle everything over a nice cup of tea. I honestly believe they'd get on with the job with diligence, openness and integrity and wouldn't that be a novelty? As Huxley said, 'Oh brave new world, that has such creatures in it.'

And what of those other women, the ones wedded to the men of the three, main parties. They all seem quite lovely to me. I think we can all agree that David's punching above his weight with the fragrant Sam. She's so pretty, and seems so nice. What was she thinking of? Oh hell, now I'm thinking about what Dave's sex face might be like and a bit of sick's come up in my mouth. Hang on whilst I poke out my mind's eye. And Nick and Ed have done all right too. Miriam and Justine come across as wonderfully intelligent, independent people and I tend to look to them to tell their husbands the stuff the rest of us would like to but don't get the opportunity. I love the idea of a shame-faced Ed being berated, over the dinner table, about having made a twat of himself in front of the viewing millions.

So not a very intellectual analysis of the political landscape then. Sorry about that.

And where does it leave us?

I just know I'd rather shit in my hand and clap than ever vote for Cameron and his ilk.

The Greens are an attractive option, but can they really do it? Possibly not. Which is a shame as I bet they'd do a lot more about the state of the infrastructure for cyclists than the rest of the mob, and it's a cause close to my heart.

No, I think I'll be sticking with the values I learnt at my Grandfather's knee, and throw in my lot with Mr. Miliband. Why? Because I think he's that rare thing, an honest man, unlike the slippery, duplicitous Blair, who let us all down so terribly badly. I still get the pink mist when I think about that man.

But whoever we end up with I'll know I did my best because I'll be out there, putting my cross on that bit of paper. Hope I see you there too, which ever party you support.

Happy voting!


Thanks for reading.
Twitter@wharfench