What A Day.
Good old Rupe. I tell you what, he's only just begun. I've watched MPs at events. The gurning and fake bonhomie. Inwardly dismissing their foot soldiers and the penny raising in favour of the fuller troughs thought to be had from the rich and sometimes powerful.
If these sycophantic, greedy politicians, with not a life experience to their name or a lengthy period and level of testing and hardship, wish to prostitute themselves why turn them away. If nothing else it has amusement value. What is ghastly about this weeks turn of events is the faux and feigned indignation of Harman and her cronies. Not least her nepotistically placed Trade Union creep of a hubby, Dromey.
Here is a woman fronting up hand wringing morality who just a short time ago was cracking the whip over us all. here is a despicable chancer, knowledgeable of death in the name of State interest, a staunch ally of "Rendition" Jack and his mate, "Quiet Assassin" Bliar. A plague on all their houses. Not least the weak, cringing bully The Boy Cameron is morphing into.
All the while this theatre of past indiscretions rumbles on, none of them will pause one second to ask one vital question. How come every penny spent on their salaries, limousines and privileged life styles is forcibly taken from tax payers and still it needs to be supplemented by debt and borrowing? Like Harman and Dromey, The Balls and the Milibads, nothing like hogging it to themselves and hoarding it in the family, is there?
It really is time for a Government of philanthropists and successful, real people. Unpaid and proud to serve. Whoops, I suddenly woke with a start!