With a general election announcement imminent, my vote remains poised on a knife edge between the Lib Dems (who haven’t managed to say anything to offend anyone yet - or indeed anything at all) and a spoiled ballot paper. Personally, I’m inclined more towards the spoiled paper as it clearly says “I would have voted if any of you had been worth it”, as opposed to staying at home which says, “I couldn’t be arsed to get up from the TV, what civil rights?”
Tony Blair tells several thousand protestors (who are legitimately concerned about a gradual corporate takeover that his government and most others are encouraging) to get lost and go home because they’re troublemakers, and then worries about voter apathy and disillusionment with politics. Geez, what’s the use of having all those advisors if none of them can knock any sense into you?
Not that anyone who still has all their own teeth and marbles is going to vote for Hague. Here’s a man who married F-f-f-Ffion and yet still goes to work with the likes of Ann Widdecombe - one of Dr Frankenstein’s earlier failures (“Igor, der monster may also be a psychotic, mindless thug with a pathological hatred of society, but at least it looks OK!”). What’s up with him? Any rational, red-blooded man would long ago have abandoned the Tory party and politics for an endless honeymoon tucked away in a remote Yorkshire cottage.