I’m as cynical as the next man, in fact, I’m a lot more cynical than him. Unless I happen to know a person well (which often only makes matters worse) I can sometimes find it difficult to discern the good in people.
However, I’m a bit bored already of the old brigade and the broadcast media’s glib assumption that we all want to go along with their disparaging, hectoring tone of manufactured incredulity that any two collections of politicians could ever find common ground. If it means keeping New Labour away from power for a while I believe it might not only be possible, it might even be a good thing. The single most unedifying comment I’ve heard in the last few days was David Blunkett airing the view that the Liberal party was conducting itself ‘like every harlot in history.’ That’s the same David Blunkett who, as Home Secretary, fast-tracked his mistress’ Filipina nannies’ application for a work visa. Blunkett, a man of the people who never tired of extolling the virtues of the ordinary working-class salt-of-the-earth back in his constituency in Sheffield Brightside, chose for his mistress a rich man’s wife in Belgravia, and he got her in the family way while rolling about in her Filipina-laundered rose-scented silk bed-linen. Blunkett sent in m’learned friends with DNA certificates and the like as soon as there was any question raised about his access rights to the new child too. While all this certainly qualifies him to know a thing or two about the behaviour of harlots, it hardly makes him best placed to pontificate from the pulpit on the matter, does it?
I used to be Old Labour, myself, and as such I am programmed to find Conservatives repulsive; nonetheless I find myself unusually delighted to see the back of New Labour. The idea of voting for David Miliband is not one I can imagine myself entertaining either; he is the single most untrustworthy robotic individual around the NL wannabees and has that loathsome skill of making his way on to the telly night after night after night without ever saying anything that’s not about himself; it’s not hard to guess that he’s learned everything anyone could ever want to know about Machiavelli from the master, Lord Mandelson of Seaton Carew Esq. I noted Gordon blanked him as he went down the line of ‘well wishers’ shaking hands post-resignation; though I couldn’t really tell whether this was good thing or a bad thing I erred on the side of the latter.