He must be.
Even Harold Wilson wasn’t this Red. Corbyn is the extreme, the epitome of the illusion that Tories have of the mad Left. Oh sure, the mad ones are real but kept in place by Labour until the time comes to kill them all but shh, don’t tell them about that. A look at history would explain but they don’t get taught that any more.
Corbyn has picked Kerry McCarthy as his farming shadow monster. I am probably still banned from her blog but might go back in a different skin. She hates us all. We eat things.
He has declared that benefits should be unlimited because the current cap of twice my income is not good enough for his workshy voters. I could get twice as much by doing fuck all? I’m in, Jeremy. Where will you get your tax from now? The obvious flaw in the plan evidently eludes the socialist mind, as usual.
My father was a coal miner. Our local MP at the time was one Neil Kinnock, who my father knew personally and I learned some imaginative insults at a very young age because of this. Kinnock nearly made a miner vote not-Labour.
That’s something even Thatcher never managed to achieve.
I remember Harold Wilson, the shabby coat and pipe guy. He looked like the weirdo at the end of the street we kids all avoided but came across as a man of the people. In hindsight, he was a commie arse but let’s be fair, he hid it well.
There was Michael Foot, a leg-end in his time. He looked and sounded like the crazed brother of Worzel Gummidge that the family kept in the basement and pretended didn’t exist.
Kinnock, Foot, even Moribund. The Corbyn creature polls below them all.
This is not a real socialist. This is a Tory caricature of a socialist. A monster made to make Labour unelectable forever.
Even if the Cameroid had non-consensual sex with a porcine corpse, this would not put one vote Labour’s way.
Corbyn will be hailed as a hero in future Tory annals. In the meantime, let’s just watch the show.
It’s entertaining, so far.