You know things are going from bad to worse for a politician when the public awareness of them is their inability to use and pronounce big words. The next day they try to create a riot out of their own minders short comings towards a couple of hecklers while being shown to be in a world of their own and their media hacks creation. Then to top it all the real party leader's 'big idea' is to re-run the opening sequences of '2001; A Space Odyssey' and superimpose a Labour moanylith for the real thing. It really goes from bad to worse when Labour's big picture opportunity of the day for Jim is with Eddy Izzard and three girls they appear to have trapped in a corner at Starbucks.
Labour's moanylith is not black, mysterious, shiny with the sense of unreachable depths in umpteen dimensions which only a few will be allowed to discover. Labour's moanylith is grey with a number of unaccountable and untenable statements scribbled across it in permanent marker. This is not a moanylith to engage with people's fantasies and drive a desire to step outside this world and discover if there are more moanyliths across our known solar system and beyond. I cannot, for the life of me, see the UN asking America and Russia to work together to develop a space station and near light speed ion drive to map their distribution across the universe. The fundilymundily response to this Labour moanylith is to pull the duvet over your head in the hopes it will go away or stuff a hanky in your mouth to try and suppress the fits of hysterical giggles the photo opportunity of an earnest Miliband pointing to the moanylith as the saving of the UK triggers.
I can hear the discussion in Labour's Fawlty Towers amongst the spads and other egregious idiots who roam its meeting rooms and corridors:
"Julian the campaign's going so baaad, like we need to do something .."
"Why, we have Eddy Izzzard wearing lipstick in Glasgow, butching it up with Jim Murphy, how can that go wrong?"
"Well it seems no one in Scotland believes a thing we spin, Julian, we have zilch street 'cred', you know. The Scots are laughing at Eddy poohs. We need some cool idea to get Eddy poohs' 'cred' back or we are just dead in Scotland."
"Antigone - I have just had a brainwave .... what sort of words do folk believe?"
"Truthful ones, stated with integrity ...."
"No, I mean yes, but think bigger ... think biblical .. I am thinking Moses."
"Parting the Red Sea?"
"No that thing he did up a mountain, you know like, the talking to God bit ..."
"We get Blair out again?"
"The commandment thingies, what was it they were written on ..."
"Tablets of Stone!"
"Yeh! So we will create our own 'Tablet of Stone' with a load of promises on it, that we'll never keep, but look cool and folk will trust us because it will look as if we have been given God's blessing. How brilliant is that!"
"Wow! Julian .... it's mega genius - Miliband as Moses; just think of all the spurious links to his integrity and honesty we can make and spin on that idea but will Blair actually speak the words from on high?"
Thus the Labour moanylith was born in the hubris and inanity of Labour's inner political wonkland without any sense of the ridiculousness of this latest iteration of crass stupidity and cupidity. An idea so bad that the writers of 'The Thick of It' say it would have not got past a script conference as it was just too daft to contemplate.
What is next?
Labour locking hundreds of monkeys in a room with word processors to re-write Labour's constitution?
Wait a moment .... I think they have done this one already ..... fundilymundily a complete cock up.
Labour's moanylith is not black, mysterious, shiny with the sense of unreachable depths in umpteen dimensions which only a few will be allowed to discover. Labour's moanylith is grey with a number of unaccountable and untenable statements scribbled across it in permanent marker. This is not a moanylith to engage with people's fantasies and drive a desire to step outside this world and discover if there are more moanyliths across our known solar system and beyond. I cannot, for the life of me, see the UN asking America and Russia to work together to develop a space station and near light speed ion drive to map their distribution across the universe. The fundilymundily response to this Labour moanylith is to pull the duvet over your head in the hopes it will go away or stuff a hanky in your mouth to try and suppress the fits of hysterical giggles the photo opportunity of an earnest Miliband pointing to the moanylith as the saving of the UK triggers.
I can hear the discussion in Labour's Fawlty Towers amongst the spads and other egregious idiots who roam its meeting rooms and corridors:
"Julian the campaign's going so baaad, like we need to do something .."
"Why, we have Eddy Izzzard wearing lipstick in Glasgow, butching it up with Jim Murphy, how can that go wrong?"
"Well it seems no one in Scotland believes a thing we spin, Julian, we have zilch street 'cred', you know. The Scots are laughing at Eddy poohs. We need some cool idea to get Eddy poohs' 'cred' back or we are just dead in Scotland."
"Antigone - I have just had a brainwave .... what sort of words do folk believe?"
"Truthful ones, stated with integrity ...."
"No, I mean yes, but think bigger ... think biblical .. I am thinking Moses."
"Parting the Red Sea?"
"No that thing he did up a mountain, you know like, the talking to God bit ..."
"We get Blair out again?"
"The commandment thingies, what was it they were written on ..."
"Tablets of Stone!"
"Yeh! So we will create our own 'Tablet of Stone' with a load of promises on it, that we'll never keep, but look cool and folk will trust us because it will look as if we have been given God's blessing. How brilliant is that!"
"Wow! Julian .... it's mega genius - Miliband as Moses; just think of all the spurious links to his integrity and honesty we can make and spin on that idea but will Blair actually speak the words from on high?"
Thus the Labour moanylith was born in the hubris and inanity of Labour's inner political wonkland without any sense of the ridiculousness of this latest iteration of crass stupidity and cupidity. An idea so bad that the writers of 'The Thick of It' say it would have not got past a script conference as it was just too daft to contemplate.
What is next?
Labour locking hundreds of monkeys in a room with word processors to re-write Labour's constitution?
Wait a moment .... I think they have done this one already ..... fundilymundily a complete cock up.
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