Monday, 28 March 2011
We can't be sure of course if this is what Cameraman had in mind when his PR's PR man told him to expound his theory of the Big Society (whatever that may mean). One thing for sure, I can't imagine they thought that middle Britain, or 'alarm clock Britain' as Cleggaron calls it, would wake up and smell ... revolution.
Our Mabel with new red banner; our Keef; our patron Saint Harriet.
The placards last Saturday said: 'This IS the Big Society; and it's ANGRY', and the crowds of 250,000, or 500,000 (depending on which Guardian commentator you wish to follow) were chanting: 'Mr Cameron can't you see? WE'RE the Big Society'. And so they are. And they currently represent 52% of the population, so not exactly an articulate minority any more, eh Dave?
While Cameraman was cowering behind the family in Chequers, his minions were informing the Arts and Humanities Research Council that they would only get their annual £100m funding this year if they direct research into the Big Society (whatever the fff it is), implying in no uncertain terms that they would happily pay the entire £100m to find out what the fff it is and be happy to see any other research disappear into the ether for eternity for the purpose; no political motives there, heavens no.
As Vince Cable states that he is willing to 'listen' but will not change his mind about anything (not exactly the spirit of consultation matey), and Cameraman is so desperate for new businesses to start up that he is actually SUGGESTING THAT PEOPLE LUCKY ENOUGH TO HAVE JOBS SHOULD QUIT THEM for a measly £1,500 IT training, evidently the whole world has gone mad and they will soon be taking me away in a white coat.
Either that, or this is 'alarm clock Britain's' call to arms, and this is just the end of the beginning.
Someone please, tell me I'm not the one who's crazy here.
Ooooh dear, is Dave considering doing a Reggie?
Monday, 21 March 2011
Cameraman is revelling in his new warrior king role, sending submarines and fighter jets to blow up ill-equipped 17-year-old Libyan conscripts. Ever noticed how he talks war with great relish as if it's a delicious meal? All he needs now is a photo op in his fave black shirt, sleeves up and open-necked. Oh, he's done that. Any manly uniforms available?
Meanwhile Gideon's Budget will be a bit of a downer, given that he found £18bn down the back of the nation's metaphorical sofa that will undermine his steely nerves for his cutting spree.
Not to be outdone, however, Gideon has got the best choice of wardrobe and is just wondering which will work better for the photos with his battered red packed lunch box.
So, while the poor and vulnerable and struggling and the squeezed middle suffer, Dave and Gideon play dressing up games. It will end in tears; we can only hope it's theirs.
Friday, 11 March 2011
If you ever attended Council meetings and wondered how we keep awake on the Labour benches while the Tories drone away, well, I'm giving away our secret. Some clever wag, bored of the same trite old phrases coming out of the Tories' mouths (are they brainwashed or do they learn the script by heart?) had the very cheeky idea of playing 'Tory Cliche Bingo'. In short it is a word game and if you get three in a line or a row you get to heckle or groan.
The Council meeting on 2 March was a four-hour marathon of interrupting, bad-mouthing, mewing from the back bench, and some quite shocking name-calling. Usually the Tories check the press gallery to see if there's anyone left before they start the verbal abuse against us, but no, this time around 100 members of the public heard it and were shocked at their bad behaviour. Anyway, rather than give the game away entirely, I have made a pretty word cloud for you.
Aside from all that - as one Tory accidentally revealed in a loud whisper - the Labour Group totally outclassed the Tories who were left with nothing whatever to comment. I don't often have cause to thank our opposite numbers, but thanks for the appreciation chaps.