Really, it should have been Diane Abbott who was elected to lead the Labour Party of Great Britain. She’s forthright, outspoken, gives good telly, and shows us that the central political battleground is rather like a kindergarten of cloned, spoiled infants, all vying for, and whining over, needlessly, one brightly-coloured soft toy covered in lickspittle and Asian flu variants.
Why do the top politicians all have to wear standard office suits, I ask you, with monochromatic ties ? Why do they all have to have short hair and be shaved and male and white, or if not white, then hail from an ex-colony ? Is it that the rich dodderers who actually run the country from their slick, corporate lobbying offices feel more comfortable if there’s a white, beardless man at the helm ?
I can imagine it now, in spit-waxed, leather-armchair, illegally smoke-filled lounges, “Oh, that chap Ed Miliband – he’s one of us, don’t you know. Slightly exotic political family background, but he’s a proper gentleman, knows how to use a handkerchief when he catches a nasty cold, and wear cufflinks, and knew he should frown frostily, patronisingly, even perhaps slightly nauseatedly at Gordon Brown, the day he left office. Excellently phlegmatic – just what we need to serve the purposes of the country’s rich. Don’t listen to that blather about the unions, he isn’t red. Ed’s our man. He’s quite open to big industrial lobbying. We just need to get his party resurrected to power.”