Such a prescient, beautiful sentiment.

Saturday, 11 September 2010

Power Hissies.

What A List Of Sulks!

This picture epitomises British politics. One side promises change, things will be different and they lie, cheat and welch on most of their manifesto content. So very little changes except one side sulks whilst the other nudges and pretends to be different. The sulky crowd marshal their placement grumps. For example, The Met., Police Federation and their clients all whinge, without any evidence yet, that crime will soar, bobbies be sacked and it will be dreadful. Teachers mobilise to fuck up the kids even more than what remnants of parenting remain. Councils are made propaganda chiefs and the real storm troopers of Labours'  SS,  the Union Barons, begin to threaten violent uprising. Note none of these loud mouthed, petulant cretins really say what they feel. Being out of power hurts so much. Pass the hankies and the begging bowl. We must let billions and billions be bygones.  You see, despite MPs being allowed back at the trough, the expenses scandals forgotten and new scams to milk the saggy, dry teet, of Labours' legacy, the fact that everything is little different than before is of naught. OK, this lot may be more competent, just, yet behind the scenes and hidden from prying eyes, the bonhomie and need to feather nests not yet built, is only second to being in power. Missing the celebrity life-style of limos, banquets, TV fees, power and its "sycophantantastical" hourly ego massage is what really, really hurts. Thus the unseemly posturing of the fallen. 
You and me? Grains of sand that, at most, get into all the wrong places and a minor irritant when there is a House of Common Purpose to enjoy. Mr Cameron, I hope you prove me wrong but there is little sign you have the desire to go after the sulking horde of Labours' left overs. Probably already prepared to suffer in silence until it's your turn to sulk and skulk from office. Time for change? That is so very funny. Oliver Cromwell, where are you when we need you?


  1. I would dearly like to kick that poisonous cretin Campbell repeatedly in the face .. to the point where my feet became sore from the effort ..