Wee Three Kings
A Sunday evening regular trawl of ‘good things’ from ‘around’ is now instituted, by order of the Eds, to be written by me. Rules: we didn’t write it, it draws a smile (or even a chortle), and, er, that’s it. To kick this death-defyingly original series off is an extract from Lallands Peat Worrier, towards which Bella is growing in affection. The Worrier writes ‘Although I’m no fan of misplaced yearnings for authoritarian leadership, I don’t think the objection can be disposed of so easily.‘ Apparently not.
The ‘ piece is as good a reflection as any I’ve found of Labour’s mini-conferences that seemed to come and go in an instant over this weekend without leaving anything more lasting than a whiff of bum-air. I love the fact that in Labour’s alternative reality, to question the whole Purcell debacle is to ‘knock Glasgow’.
This is – excuse the French – fucking hilarious. It’s tantamount to saying that attacking Neil Hamilton’s moral probity was running down Tatton.
Reading the worried one you do have to think, not just about Grays’ pendulity (pendulousity?) but also the idea that if Labour succeed in branding the Nats as ‘Tartan Tories’ despite them opposing Trident, PFI, ending the right to buy and taking hospitals privatised under Labour back into the NHS, then maybe the Mandelson revolution is complete and we’re all doomed to a diet of spin, churnalism and general political distortion qua Orwell, Chomsky and all that mob. Anyway this is dangerously like a post which would mean me instantly banished back to the Hilltown…
Enjoy it all here. See you next Sabbath.