T
The Byre
- Original Poster
- #1
In 1922 Winston Churchill dubbed Bonar Law’s coalition government the “second eleven” because so many top players, including Lloyd George, refused to serve in it.
Today both Labour and Conservative are fielding their third eleven. Three-quarters of Labour MPs concluded that Corbyn is not fit to run their party. On the right, the Conservative Party chose May because she hadn’t expressed any opinions about, well, anything really. These are third rate people, running third rate shows. When I remind you that complete nincompoops like Amber Rudd is, or was the Home Secretary and Dianne Abbott is her shadow - and that the Prime Minister only scraped a second in geography (not good enough to get a job as a trainee manager at Aldi) whereas the leader of the opposition didn't even get his A-Levels, you begin to see the depths the British political classes have descended to.
Why are we in this mess? Well, over the past 30 years politics has become a profession. Yesterday’s tribunes of the people, or at least of the people’s leading interest groups, have been replaced by professionals who make their livelihood out of politics. The trouble is, politics is not a very attractive profession.
People enter a career for either money or fulfilment. Politicians get neither. Their salaries are now below that of an area manager at Aldi or your local GP, the job is stressful and they live with the possibility of having the rug pulled from under their feet at the next election.
And the public treats them with a mixture of suspicion and contempt. The proportion of Britons telling pollsters that they almost never trust the government has risen from one in ten in 1986 to one in three today. And the decline continues untrammelled, as parliament is today stuffed with former political aides with no experience of life. This gave the Conservative Government a front bench, policy committee an a prime minister all so grossly incompetent, that their own botched campaign and manifesto turned a 20-point lead into a hung parliament in four short weeks.
But if you, as do I, yearn for a Comedy of Errors, if like me, you want to see chaos reign supreme, the coming few days will see some wonderful fun and games, as our PM is forced to do deals with a motley collection of racist, bigoted, myopic, murderous morons, who spend their days off, marching in bowler hats and orange sashes. A clique founded by a pocket Hitler in a tin shed, calling himself both Reverend and Doctor, when he was neither, a group of such befuddled views, that they want a hard Brexit and an open boarder with Ireland at one and the same time! That is the nature of the tail that will be wagging the government's black dog!
Whatever happens, the current situation cannot last!
I am for the revolution's coming,
I don't know where she's been.
For those who dare because it's there
I know I've seen.
Now and then I've suffered imperfection,
I've studied marble flaws
And faces drawn pale and worn
By many tears.
I'm from out of nowhere
To fight without a cause,
Roots strain against the grain
With brute force.
You'd better
Hold out when you're in doubt,
Question what you see
And when you find an answer,
Bring it home to me.
Today both Labour and Conservative are fielding their third eleven. Three-quarters of Labour MPs concluded that Corbyn is not fit to run their party. On the right, the Conservative Party chose May because she hadn’t expressed any opinions about, well, anything really. These are third rate people, running third rate shows. When I remind you that complete nincompoops like Amber Rudd is, or was the Home Secretary and Dianne Abbott is her shadow - and that the Prime Minister only scraped a second in geography (not good enough to get a job as a trainee manager at Aldi) whereas the leader of the opposition didn't even get his A-Levels, you begin to see the depths the British political classes have descended to.
Why are we in this mess? Well, over the past 30 years politics has become a profession. Yesterday’s tribunes of the people, or at least of the people’s leading interest groups, have been replaced by professionals who make their livelihood out of politics. The trouble is, politics is not a very attractive profession.
People enter a career for either money or fulfilment. Politicians get neither. Their salaries are now below that of an area manager at Aldi or your local GP, the job is stressful and they live with the possibility of having the rug pulled from under their feet at the next election.
And the public treats them with a mixture of suspicion and contempt. The proportion of Britons telling pollsters that they almost never trust the government has risen from one in ten in 1986 to one in three today. And the decline continues untrammelled, as parliament is today stuffed with former political aides with no experience of life. This gave the Conservative Government a front bench, policy committee an a prime minister all so grossly incompetent, that their own botched campaign and manifesto turned a 20-point lead into a hung parliament in four short weeks.
But if you, as do I, yearn for a Comedy of Errors, if like me, you want to see chaos reign supreme, the coming few days will see some wonderful fun and games, as our PM is forced to do deals with a motley collection of racist, bigoted, myopic, murderous morons, who spend their days off, marching in bowler hats and orange sashes. A clique founded by a pocket Hitler in a tin shed, calling himself both Reverend and Doctor, when he was neither, a group of such befuddled views, that they want a hard Brexit and an open boarder with Ireland at one and the same time! That is the nature of the tail that will be wagging the government's black dog!
Whatever happens, the current situation cannot last!
I am for the revolution's coming,
I don't know where she's been.
For those who dare because it's there
I know I've seen.
Now and then I've suffered imperfection,
I've studied marble flaws
And faces drawn pale and worn
By many tears.
I'm from out of nowhere
To fight without a cause,
Roots strain against the grain
With brute force.
You'd better
Hold out when you're in doubt,
Question what you see
And when you find an answer,
Bring it home to me.
