It was Pastygate that did it, finally. Yes, I'm aware that that was the start of last week, and instant commentary and the inexorable flow of news has rendered this redundant but hey, this is coastalbog, it moves to its own damn time. Pastygate was the point I finally gave up.
I've limped along for years, hoping against scarred and battered hope that parliament was, ulimately, a force for good. Or if not that, at least a force for keeping the country staggering, gasping, along. Clearly not. And I'm a fool for thinking it. All those people I harangued for not voting over the years? I'm sorry guys, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
You see, what did it for me, finally, was that in the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT, were actively encouraging antisocial, fight in the streets and scrap for the last drop of petrol behaviour. In the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT were unrepentant about essentially ho-ing it about for a quarter of a mill of premier league cock. In the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT were more concerned with the semantics of the construction "jerry-can" than they were with RUNNING THE FUCKING COUNTRY. Where, oh where, were Her Majesty's Opposition?
In Gregg's.
Because some fucking genius in Millbank went "hey, like, yeah, the tories, like, never go to Gregg's yeah and like poor people totes go to like Greggs and we like are totes all about the poor people, yeah?"
Because, Ed, natch, spends every fucking spare moment he can queueing for a ham and cheese slice. This post, I am aware, contains a relatively high fuck quotient. And so it should. I'm fucking furious.
Galloway wins Bradford west. Galloway. A joke, a shot bolt, a one-hit wonder, somehow persaudes a 20% swing. The man who six months ago was lauding Bashar al-Assad as "that last Arab ruler, the true arab ruler" rips a massive swing vote out from under Labour's arses. The tories are interviewed about it, their vote went down 23%. All they can do is bleat about how it's worse for Labour. Ed's in Gregg's, Dave's having a "kitchen supper", Nick's hoping somone notices he's still here. Dear Labour: I don't care if you eat pasties, formulate some fucking policies. Dear Tories, if your vote goes down you're doing something wrong, I don't want to hear about how bad it was for somebody else, I want to hear about what YOU plan to do about it. Dear Lib Dems, bless you, are you still here? Really? Could have fooled everybody.
I'm done, I've had it. Finally, I'm sick of the bloody lot of them. Now I understand the plummeting voter turnout, now I understand voter apathy. It's not their fault, they were just a lot quicker on the uptake than me. The question is, if the whole system's fucked, which it clearly is, what next?
I've limped along for years, hoping against scarred and battered hope that parliament was, ulimately, a force for good. Or if not that, at least a force for keeping the country staggering, gasping, along. Clearly not. And I'm a fool for thinking it. All those people I harangued for not voting over the years? I'm sorry guys, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
You see, what did it for me, finally, was that in the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT, were actively encouraging antisocial, fight in the streets and scrap for the last drop of petrol behaviour. In the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT were unrepentant about essentially ho-ing it about for a quarter of a mill of premier league cock. In the week where the government, the fucking GOVERNMENT were more concerned with the semantics of the construction "jerry-can" than they were with RUNNING THE FUCKING COUNTRY. Where, oh where, were Her Majesty's Opposition?
In Gregg's.
Because some fucking genius in Millbank went "hey, like, yeah, the tories, like, never go to Gregg's yeah and like poor people totes go to like Greggs and we like are totes all about the poor people, yeah?"
Because, Ed, natch, spends every fucking spare moment he can queueing for a ham and cheese slice. This post, I am aware, contains a relatively high fuck quotient. And so it should. I'm fucking furious.
Galloway wins Bradford west. Galloway. A joke, a shot bolt, a one-hit wonder, somehow persaudes a 20% swing. The man who six months ago was lauding Bashar al-Assad as "that last Arab ruler, the true arab ruler" rips a massive swing vote out from under Labour's arses. The tories are interviewed about it, their vote went down 23%. All they can do is bleat about how it's worse for Labour. Ed's in Gregg's, Dave's having a "kitchen supper", Nick's hoping somone notices he's still here. Dear Labour: I don't care if you eat pasties, formulate some fucking policies. Dear Tories, if your vote goes down you're doing something wrong, I don't want to hear about how bad it was for somebody else, I want to hear about what YOU plan to do about it. Dear Lib Dems, bless you, are you still here? Really? Could have fooled everybody.
I'm done, I've had it. Finally, I'm sick of the bloody lot of them. Now I understand the plummeting voter turnout, now I understand voter apathy. It's not their fault, they were just a lot quicker on the uptake than me. The question is, if the whole system's fucked, which it clearly is, what next?
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