So Osborne didn’t stab Darling to death while Cable was outed as a sex line bankrupt. But remember the big picture
Disappointing week. I know for a fact that several key strategists spent Tuesday night, unbuttoned and semi-tumescent before the widescreen, all oiled up and ready to get busy as they watched Osborne stutter and screech like a flamingo being fed feet-first into a Moulinex. I, personally, was even planning, as suggested by a senior cabinet member, to eat a Cadbury’s Creme Egg in its entirety at my moment of no return to heighten the sensation of bliss.
However – don’t think we should get downhearted that Osborne didn’t do his lip curl or Sebastian-Flyte-talking-to-his-teddy voice. Remember, big picture, most people didn’t know who any of these guys were. Most people just saw three generations of boring talking honk about shite. But the good news for us is that the focus group in my head suggests that swing voters who did watch became enraged when they learnt that after the election the boss of them was likely to be not Mr Depressing nor the Man in the Big Yellow Suit but Curious George, the albino test-tube love child of Mr Burns and Miss Havisham.
So. Nil desperandum homo erectus. After all, the only outcome you would really have enjoyed would’ve been Osborne stabbing Darling to death and being escorted away in disgrace as Krishnan G-M outed Cable as having gone bankrupt on Zoo magazine phone sex lines.
NI cut: Look, big picture. The truth is the Tories, and now Darling with his my-dick’s-as-big-as-Thatcher’s cuts boast, have both been trying the same Jedi mind trick on folk for a while. It goes: OK, we are going to be tough, we’re going to be so fucking tough. We’re going to be brutal, you need to accept that, and we want to get the credit right now for telling you straight out how very stripped down and Mad Max in Jo’burg the future is going to be as everything goes a bit Democratic Republic of Pete Tong in the public services.
But the second part of the scam is a few nice policy announcements that go: thanks for all the credit for scaring the shit out of you so straightforwardly, but actually wink wink mate, you know what, it’s probably not going to be that bad. And mostly it’s going to be some other poor dope who takes it up the ‘arris – because, weirdly, we’ve had a look at the numbers and there might actually be a treat in all this crapola for you as it goes, because you’re not one of these filthy greedy fuckers you see on the news, you’re one of the good guys and we’ll sort you out, pal.
Obviously GO having a pop at the NI hike is just the most balls-out version of this “we’re going to fuck you so hard but it’ll weirdly turn out to be totally fine for you” mind meld. That’s why we need to target it hard and disregard Comrade Mandelson and his class war and deploy our own business-world guys to support us asap even if we have to pull the quotes from the guy who fixes your broadband and the kid with the wonky eye in Asda car park.
Couple of bits and bobs: 40 days and 40 nights – We must surely be able to recycle Cameron’s call to arms against him. 40 days and 40 nights? Does this messianic tone fit with the ambitions? What? He’s had word from a burning bush and Jehovah wants him to consider abolishing Ofcom? A choir of angels has spoken unwith him and he hath divined the need to bang his own member with a rock? Give us a break.
Lumley – Oh yeah, and here’s a little tip to every Brain Ballsack MP in the Her Majesty’s Government. Leave Joanna Lumley a-fucking-lone. You don’t tweak the nipples of a national treasure. You do not imply she is anything other than perfect. You might as well suggest dotting the Diana Memorial Fountain with yellow piss cakes and turning it into the People’s Urinal. If Jo-Lum wants to march the contents of the entire Ukrainian paedo register into an area of outstanding national beauty the response is: “Certainly, Ma’am, and could we get a photo with you?”
Reproduced from Malcolm Tucker’s Guardian column.