A National Embarrassment

Those of you who notice things will probably have observed that your correspondent has paid very little attention to the eructations of NuLabConFlab '09 - The Final; and now is as good a time as any to confess that this has been no accident. Indeed, the past fortnight's occasional poetic effusions could perhaps be considered a blogospherical substitute for singing la la la with the fingers in the ears until the whole ugly business is done with. I am only too well aware that Daveybloke's Cuddly Conference is yet to come; but however shallow, superficial, dishonest, repellent or smug the participants may be, their words will at least possess a certain relevance, since it will most likely be Daveybloke's Cuddly Conservatives who will man the country's next four-year shift of corporate welfare and banker-wanking. Nevertheless, I am unaccountably tickled by the thought of someone with the gravitas of the Upper Miliband claiming to be wiser and more mature than the likes of Daveybloke, George "Progressive" Osborne, or anyone else in the twits, flits and shits brigade that constitutes the front bench for Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition. It is also rather charming to see the party that helped Nick Griffin into Strasbourg fulminating over Daveybloke's attempt to propitiate his neotebbits by cuddling up to the East European anti-semites and gay-bashers. For his efforts the Upper Miliband received a standing ovation, no doubt entirely spontaneous.

The Government has made its usual contribution to reasoned and honest debate by issuing a statement that compares the approaching electoral meltdown to the elections of 1945 and 1997. This is obviously unfair. In 1997, a corrupt, incompetent, discredited, mean-spirited and authoritarian government was spectacularly trounced by an Opposition led by a second-rate public relations man who substituted slogans for policies, doubtless on the sensible grounds that policy-making could be left to the CBI, Rupert Murdoch and the White House. The present situation is quite different, because Daveybloke is not really a second-rate public relations sort of bloke. Daveybloke has a little man, Andy Coulson, who second-rates for him, and it would be unjust to suggest otherwise. As for 1945, it is a bit difficult to determine which of the opposing parties New New Labour sees reincarnated in itself, since it was in 1945 that the Official Greatest Ever Number One Briton Ever, a barking reactionary who equated the welfare state with Nazism, was defeated by a party which had leanings towards being in favour of a national health service.