A sardonic Bristol view of the election debates

A NEW DAWN   

 

  It is official. We all woke up on Friday to view a new political landscape. The world seemed a brighter place, the new air was clear, smelled fresh and clean, and was filled with the laughter of children. Strangers were smiling at each other in the street and people were spontaneously holding hands on all forms of public transport. What has happened to tickle the very womb of our collective consciousness? Well, a man called Nick Clegg, (steady girls) whom no-one had ever seen on television, spoke about things that he thought -about things. He was talking to a man called David Cameron, (Call me Dave) and a man called Gordon Brown (Don’t smile).

 

  Before Thursday, the only fact of any consequence of which we were aware regarding Nick Clegg (steady girls) was that he claims to have had over thirty sexual partners. This must surely be a world record for a man whose second name is Clegg. It is not a name synonymous with leadership or success in any form, and the nations’ job centres, soup kitchens and fourth division football relegation zones must ring with the moniker. For a man called Nick Clegg, (Steady girls) the very fact that he is on television is a huge success in its own right, and he should be happy enough with this small yet valid victory; but the man is on a roll, the polls are in, and the Great British Public (God bless you all) have dismissed the fact that was painfully obvious until Thursday night: Nick Clegg (Steady girls) is not even the best drummer in the Beatles.

 

  Somehow I was not immediately stunned that the presentation and substance of the live political debate did not live up to the “American Presidential style” billing afforded it by a hysterical media in the Three week run-up. We have been told ad nauseam about how Nixon lost an election because he was sweaty, Reagan won one because he was witty, and Gore lost one because he got lost on the stage. David Cameron (Call me Dave) was not going to win the election in the first debate but, by cracky, one slip of the tongue or a squeaky fart could lose it for him! Nick Clegg (steady girls) had decided to do a rap! Was Gorden Brown (Don’t smile) really going to wear shorts? The nation waited with baited breath.  And then Alistair Stewart took the stage.

 

  Alistair Stewart?!  As in “presenter of ITVs flagship 1am. crime-fest Nightwatch”  Alistair Stewart? Is a man whose talents lie in drawing our attention to grainy images of fleeing car thieves  hiding in hedges in Wales really the best man to conduct an” American Presidential  style debate”?  Were both Chris Packham and  Michaela Strachan unavailable?  In fact I refuse to believe that not a single member of the original “Really Wild Show” line up was even consulted.  Alistair Stewart.  The poor mans’ Michael Buerk. Here is a list of Stewarts’ peers who could have knocked the boy (He’s not even an MBE for Goodness Sakes!) into a cocked hat on the night.

 

1         Rusty Lee.  

2          Sue Pollard.

3         John Nettles.

4         Kareem Abdul Jabbar.

5         Dempsey.

6         Rachel off Friends.

7         Makepiece.

8         The scared animated shoe from the film “Who Framed Roger Rabbit”.

9         Sweet Sweetback from the 1970s Blaxploitation movie “Sweet Sweetbacks Badass Song”.

10     Chico.

 

A noble line up, I’m sure you’ll agree.

 

  Stewart was supported by a list of seventy rules to which each party leader had to adhere. SEVENTY! I was not aware that there were seventy rules. After ninety minutes I could not have identified a single one of them. No running? (Call me Dave) No bombing? (Don’t smile) or no heavy Petting? (Steady girls). From the beginning the three separate strategies were clear. Cameron was to appear presidential, Clegg was to scoff at the school boy antics of the old enemies and rise above it, and Gordon Brown had to avoid both smiling; and mentioning the X Factor at all costs. Someone called Jonathon, who wears lightweight spectacles and” Simpsons” braces has told Gordon Brown (Don’t smile) that people “Really like the X Factor and it’s really popular! You are unpopular! If you say that you really like the X Factor enough times people who like it as well will like you as well!” This works on your first day at public school.  It may not work as the cornerstone of the closest election campaign in living memory.

 

   At some point Brown is going to have to stop listening to his publicity media monkeys and stop pretending that he is a nice man with hobbies and friends and hopes, a man who can take joy in the simple things in life.  At some point Brown is going to have to admit that he is actually made from scar tissue and the bitter tears of orphaned children and, like in “The Legend of Tim Tyler”, he is a boy who has lost his smile. And what a smile it almost is. An unholy union between Sloth from “The Goonies” being offered a Babe Ruth and Forest Gump’s cum face, this is the stuff of nightmares and, badly stitched onto a face like a robbers dog, has no place in modern politics. That said, he did better than expected on Thursday night, but no one apart from his social media butterfly wife expected much anyway.

 

  David Cameron (Call me Dave) clearly thought that it was his debate to lose. That earnest, open style, that easy relationship with the camera, that nine point lead in the polls, that posh bird he’d just knocked up, everything was looking good. Until the first question. Which was on immigration. In an attempt to justify his policy that capped immigration, he quoted “A man I met in Plymouth last week- a BLACK man” who agreed with him that there were too many immigrants. Well. If even BLACK men are agreeing with Conservative immigration policy now, how can David Cameron (Call me Dave) be wrong? Because they were all immigrants once too, don’t you see? All the BLACK men. They all left their spears in Africa and came here years ago, and that’s fine because we are not allowed to say it isn’t, but now even the Black men are saying that there are too many immigrants! (And by immigrants they mean Black men) So there must be too many and this is a brilliant policy. Mmmm. This, even by Tory standards, was at best cynical and racist at worst. All the point lacked was a curtain to go up behind Cameron revealing the London Gospel City Choir, holding placards announcing “Pakis Go Home” while singing “We Are the World”.  Would Cameron have used the man from Plymouth to justify his policy if he were a white man?  If you ask me he was bloody lucky to identify the head Black man in the UK at all.

 

  But David Cameron (Call me Dave) was just getting into his stride, brilliantly informing Nick Clegg (steady girls) that we needed to hold on to our nuclear deterrent “because of Iran and China” China? Are we to understand from this that Cameron, if elected, would immediately set about engaging the world’s biggest superpower in nuclear war? If this is the case it is a policy of genius. No one is worrying about your lack of an education policy if there is a mushroom cloud the size of Scotland. Over Scotland.

 

  But I think that most objective observers can all agree that it was Nick Clegg (Steady girls) who was the class act of the evening. He didn’t really say anything of substance or note, just took full advantage of the fact that Gordon Brown (Don’t smile) and David Cameron (Call me Dave), much like the rest of the Great British Public (God bless you all) had no idea who Clegg was. What could they possibly fear from a man who, apart from having more than thirty sexual partners, wasn’t (as far as they knew) even the best drummer in the Beatles? In fact, after forty five minutes of bickering, they both decided on the extraordinary policy of simply agreeing with everything he said! Better safe than sorry chaps. Well done. Nice catch. Did no one notice that at least thirty five percent of the Liberal Democrats wildly optimistic manifesto was justified by Nick Clegg(Steady girls)claiming limply: “Well it works in Canada!”  Canada? Since when was Johnny Cannuck the poster boy for good government? I’m sure a lot of things work in Canada: Bear baiting and incest spring to mind. I’ve seen nearly all of the first series of “Due South”, yet find it impossible to name one famous Canadian. Or just a Canadian.

 

  What worries me most about the fallout from the first televised political debate is that Nick Clegg (steady girls) clearly won it by a landslide. With some polls affording the Liberal Democrats as much as fifty one percent, I seriously doubt that they managed to keep any semblance of control at the after party. The truth is that the Liberal Democrats are the true party of excess. A party in which alcoholism and a penchant for the attentions of enthusiastic rent boys is not only tolerated, but, in the cases of the last two leaders, Charles Kennedy and Mark Oaten respectively, positively rewarded! It appears that to succeed within the Liberal (liberal?) party you have to be able to say yes to absolutely anything. Take the head of the Welsh Liberal Democrats (I believe he is called Lemsip Toothpick) who has, at one time or another, been the Lib Dem spokesman for Northern Island, Wales, Housing, Business and Education. This is a heady line up of responsibilities for any politician, but Lemsip will be best remembered for, at one time, living with both the Cheeky Girls! One of which he was engaged to! It was also reported that he purchased breast implants for both of them! This is one liberal party. Can I buy tickets or do you need an invitation?  Just picture, if you will, the Caligulan scenes of excess in an un-named hotel suite in central London as Nick Clegg (Steady girls) celebrates his success. The room will be full of sweating, heaving bodies; the air thick with reefer. Orgy and debauchery are the order of the day here folks, and Clegg and his panting entourage will be shooting up speedballs and eating vitamin B12 by the handful. Mark Oaten will have set up his tent of heavy velour early on in proceedings, outside which are strewn the semi naked, sobbing and broken bodies of young fund raisers.

 

  Yes indeed, this is a new dawn in modern politics, but I urge you to be careful what you wish for. We now have a real 3 horse race between Gordon Brown, (Don’t smile!) David Cameron, (Call me Dave) and Nick Clegg (Steady girls). Last Thursday’s debate was nothing more than a quick glimpse into the future of the UK with a hung parliament. Take away Alistair Stewart and we have already seen every Monday morning at Westminster for the next four years: A sour faced curmudgeon arguing policy with a coiffed toff as a boyish libertine attempts to referee. That said however, Clegg took the plaudits on the night and is to be congratulated. I think that on May sixth he will certainly do well enough to get his deposit back. The damage deposit on his hotel room will be another matter entirely.

 

 

 

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Posted by: Tom Mitchell on 21 April 2010