Years ago, way back when it was still worth turning on a television, there was a really funny show called ‘Spitting Image’ that took the piss out of… well, anyone in the public eye really. They made marvellous caricature puppets and nobody was off limits. Nobody. Not the living, not the dead, not even God.
Oh, people complained, so they took the piss out of the complainers too. Back then, ‘get a life’ actually meant something. Now it just means ‘you are not living as directed, here, have a life. Here is your script’.
Nowadays the makers of that programme would all be thrown in jail just for suggesting that show to a TV executive.
Politicians were complacent about the anger of the electorate even back then – as Dick Puddlecote notes and this clip from 1991 makes clear. All they think they have to do is murmur a few platitudes and wait for the proles’ memories to fade. A few days of BBC mind-wipe television usually does it.
The Cameroid is murmuring platitudes now. He promises (ha! another promise!) to reduce the amount of benefits claimed by non-UK people from the EU while knowing full well that there is absolutely bugger all he can do about it as long as we remain bound by EU treaties. He will manage to fool some, but a lot fewer than he fooled with his pre-election Referendum-Maybe promise. He reneged on that even before the election. If he hadn’t, well, he might not be saddled with The Party on the Trail of the Lonesome MEP. One day I have to get back to that .
The Clegg is downcast and despairing at the hammering his party have taken in council and EU elections. Sympathy? This is the git who equated any relaxation of the smoking ban with bringing back the death penalty. Never mind that many people have since died as a direct result of the smoking ban – which means that keeping and extending the ban is in fact the same as bringing back hanging. Repealing it would have saved lives, Clegg, you murdering bastard.
He made this pronouncement, smug-faced, within days of being grafted onto the Cameroid’s forehead as a sort of backup arrogance facility. To see him doomed to obscurity, at high risk of losing his Parliamentary seat and facing the terrible prospect of finding a real job, just makes me laugh. The Secret Ninja Cleaners are hiring, Clegg. Send a CV, we could do with a giggle. You can’t do this job, you weak little waster.
Meanwhile, Moribund Minor is at pains to prove he is the most out of touch of all of them. “Vote Labour and we wil ensure you stay in the glorious EU for ever! This is what the people want.” Seems he has spent the last week drunker than I have ever managed. We probably paid for it too.
The panic of the main parties is pretty much over. Even Oily Al and the Scottish Nannying Puritans are no longer bothered too much about the UKIP MEP in their midst. Oily didn’t lose an MEP, the Lib Dems did. He just didn’t get an extra one.
I think the Cameroid still has an inkling of panic which is a good thing for him to have at this stage. Clegg is in ”We must explain ourselves better, the electorate doesn’t understand us’ and Moribund is firmly in ‘More of the same! More of the same! This time it will work!’ mode. They are slipping back into complacency. The drones will forget. The drones will vote in their designated tribes at the general election next year. UKIP will not get any further than they have now. Okay, none of the main mob ever seem to notice that every time UKIP make further huge gains, they say the same thing, but never mind.
It is now essential that UKIP get an MP in Wastemonster next year. One is enough, but there has to be one. If there isn’t, all three of the Borg parties will assume smug expressions and say ‘See? I told you they wouldn’t vote UKIP’ even if every last one of them has a single-vote majority over the second-place UKIP candidate.
It’s up to us. Agree with UKIP or not, doesn’t matter. One UKIP MP will make no actual difference to the non-workings of that glorified parish council. It’s the psychological impact that matters now. Cat among the pigeons. To Wastemonster, one UKIP MP is like finding an ant in your kitchen. Where one gets in, hundreds follow.
It’s up to us to vote them in. Just one has to get in. Just one. Then watch the complacent trousers fill with spontaneous bowel evacuations.
It just takes one to make them realise that maybe, just maybe, they aren’t as safe in their bubble as they think. UKIP as a protest vote? Well, do you have something you want to protest about to this government? Then vote UKIP. It’s the only thing that scares them.
Whether you are Left or Right or Stalin or Vlad the Impaler or just a middle class meek admin clerk thinking ‘Ooo, no, that’s a bit off’, if you want to register your dissatisfaction then all you need do is put an X in the UKIP box at the bottom of the list. It won’t result in a UKIP government, certainly not this time around, but it is the only power you have to slap the complacent idiots of the government into shape. They listen to nothing else. Nothing at all.
Want proof? They have already consulted on plain packaging for cigarettes and have ignored the massive result saying ‘This is the second stupidest idea you have had since deciding to go into politics’. Guess what? They plan to do it anyway. (tip of the heavy hat to Dick Puddlecote for this one too).
The only thing that scares them, all of them, is UKIP. That is your power. One X in a box is all it takes to make them listen to you. And you only have to do it once. Next time you can go back to voting for your usual party, knowing that they will then be aware of the power you have over them and that they should be doing what you want done. They will listen to you only after you show them your power. The power of your vote. One smackdown and your MP is eating out of your hand. UKIP don’t even have to win the seat in your constituency, they just have to get close enough to make your MP’s arse suck his shit back up.Then you pwn your MP and for a change, they will do what you want done. It’s up to you.
Or you could just meekly accept that you are party property. It’s entirely up to you. UKIP have handed you the option of the bitch-slap vote to tell your party who is boss. Whether you use it or not is your choice. UKIP will not force you because they are not interested in controlling you. The matter is entirely in your hands. Are you pwned, or do you pwn?
Digression time. I read a pundit (what is a pundit anyway? I’ve never heard a single good pun from any of them) who said that it would be hard for Oily Al to argue that Scotland is an entirely separate country now that he has a UKIP MEP in the fold. Well he also has two Labour ones in there and as even more of a surprise than UKIP, a Tory one too. Quite why the UKIP one matters so much is hard to tell.
UKIP did very well indeed, it cannot be denied, but… Nigel, chill man. You are not trying to take over the world. Or even to pop that huge zit on Oily Al’s forehead. Scotland is of no relevance to your plan except to fiurther it.
A split would mean both Scotland and the rump Uk would have to renegotiate membership as new countries and both could say ‘no thanks’. Independence for Scotland would suit UKIP so why fight it? You can have an alliance once we are both out.
The euphoria of a big and unexpected win can be intoxicating but Nige, grab a few strong coffees and a smoke and relax.
Your next step might not be in the direction you think it is.
(Typos are caused by a mad early day and Auchentoshan)