Election Holiday

The febrile nature of this election campaign has become too much for me and I have decided to take a short break.

Calm down, dear boy

(Michael Winner asks his old mate Michael Caine to do an esure commercial with him. They are lounging by the pool, sipping cocktails.)

MC: You know, Mikey boy. Don't get me wrong or nothing. I know these ads are really important to you and the such like. But I think I'm getting a bit too long in the old tooth to start selling insurance. Don't you?

MC: Nonsense, my boy. You're never too old to do an E-sure ad. What about me, Mikey? What about Uncle Michael. I'm no spring chicken - even if the ladies might say otherwise.

MC: Oh yeah, we all know about you and the ladies, don't we?

MC: Not that I want to brag, Michael, my boy. But I'll tell you what. There have been a lot more of those ladies since I started doing the Esure ads. I can tell you.

MC: Really, Mikey?

MC: Really, Michael.

MC: What like young ladies? You don't mean, like those ones in the ads that you say "calm down" to?

MW: Oh puh-lease, Michael. What do you think I'm like?

MC: I know what you're like, Mikey! I do indeed!

MW: Anyway, look... we must move on. Time is money and all that! What I had in mind was an insurance ad that could have come straight out of a caper movie... like the Italian Job.

MC: Oh, goody goody. Been ages since I done a caper movie!

MW: Precisely... as you say. You're no spring chicken.

MC: Excuse me, Mikey! Was that you just ribbing me just then?

MW: (Dismisses this with a wave) Anyway you... you are doing a bank heist. And you have some dolt of a safe cracker who is going to work on a ten inch steel door. He screws it up royally. And then you shout: "You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off."

MC: Oh... love it. I haven't said anything like that for ages... Probably not since, I don't know, Get Carter.

MW: (Looks at him quizically) Right.. Yes. You okay, my boy?

MC: Have never felt better, Mikey!

MW: Anyway... I then come a long and I say - wait for it -

MC: (Cuts in) Zulus, Zulus bloody everywhere!

MW: Please, Michael. Don't be so absurd. I come in and say: "Calm down dear. It's only a commercial."

MC: Yeah of course... Of course... But pardon me if I'm a bit slow today, Mikey, but why would someone doing a bank job have bought insurance? It just ain't right. The boys'd never bother with something as namby pamby as insurance. Not on a bank job. That's more like...

MW: Oh please, Michael. Don't be so literal minded. Remember - It's a commercial.

MC: Nah Mikey... Calm down, it's only a commercial. (Chuckles to himself)

MW: Yes, Michael. Very drole. Very drole indeed.

MC: Thought you'd like that one Mikey.

MW: Yes, it was a classic, Michael.

MC: Yeah and who are you supposed to be Mikey? You're not Mr Bridger, are ya?

MW: No, of course I'm not Mr Bridger, Michael. How utterly ridiculous. Bridger was played by Noel Coward. Nothing like me.

MC: I could see it Mikey, I really could (puts on Noel Coward voice)  C-c-c-calm down, dear boy, will you please? It is only... a c-c-commercial. Indeed is it not? Do ya like my Coward impersonation, Mikey?

MW: (Scratching his head) You know, Michael...

MC: What?

MC: I think... You might have something there.

MC: I think I might too, actually.

MW: Might have to work on it a bit. But, I just wonder... Interesting departure, it would be, but... could just possibly be a goer.

MC: Well, we're old troopers aren't we Mikey? If anyone can bring a bit of business to an Esure ad, Michaels Caine and Winner certainly can.

MW: I think you'll find the billing would be MCs Winner and Caine.

MC: On an ad, Mikey? Don't think so.

MW: Anyway this is by the by, MC. You're suggesting that I put on my best Noel Coward voice on and play Mr Bridger? (Plays around with it) C-Calm down... Calm, c-c-ccalm... d-d-down... Dear... Deeear boy....

MC: Yeah. I bet you always fancied yourself as Noel Coward.

MW: I beg your pardon? I most certainly did not. He was most definitely not one for the ladies I can tell you that!

MC: Calm down, calm down, Mikey. Just having a laugh.

MW: Yes, very funny, Michael.

MC: Having a laugh, mate

MW: Yes, you said

MC: Although maybe you ought to get married soon... Other wise they'll be saying: Look at Mikey Winner... Unmarried? At his age?... And what's more he is frolicking around doing all these Noel Coward impersonations... You know, like, what's with this: "Calm down, dear boy" routine? Whatever next? He'll be making a musical next, I shouldn't wonder. And maybe, who knows, doing an impersonation of Noel Coward in the lead role.

MW: What on earth are you talking about? Doing a musical? Puh-lease! This is all becoming rather surreal...  (He sits thinking about it for a moment... then frowns). Although...

MC: Yeah?

MW: Although... Actually, come to think of it...

MC: Yes?

MW:  You know... You might be onto something there...

MC: Might I, Mikey?

MW: Yes.... Come to think of it... What is the one last great thing I have left to do? A musical of course! You know... You might... just be onto something!

MC: There you go Mikey boy. Trust old MC to suggest your piece of resistance! I've just given you your next project, I have.

MW: (He sits nodding, stares into space, sipping his drink. Then all of a sudden his face drops. He slowly begins to shake his head.) No...

MC: No?

MW: No. Wouldn't work, this musical.

MC: No? I thought we was onto something there.

MW: No, Michael... it couldn't work...

MC: Why's that then?

MW: Well... for a start... Charlie Bronson isn't around any more, is he...? And I just couldn't do it without Charlie? Could I?

MC: (Ponders) Oh... I see your point, Mikey... Nah, you couldn't really do your musical, your musical piece of resistance without Charlie. Could ya?

MW: I'm afraid... Sadly not.

Volcanic eruption! An apology.

The other day I suggested that Prime Minister Brown was angry about the ash cloud that has halted all flights. We are in the middle of an election and should be focused on who governs Britain, not on some volcano that we can do precious little about.

I would like to correct this: The ash cloud has given the Prime Minister a photo opportunity. Flanked by Lord Mandelson and Foreign Secretary Miliband, he can once again pretend that he is the saviour of our nation. He can appear invaluable; he can tell us that he won't abandon us in our hour of need. He will show us his mettle, he...

Hold on, hold on, Gordon. No one believes any of this. This is UTTERLY pathetic. Stop thinking that photo opportunities will save you. Do you have that low an opinion of the British people???

Morgan the Vulture and Barcode Bob

Summer 2010 - St Jean - Morgan peers out over the Med - Matt's point about 'Goldie' is bothering him. Has he tapped into something significant - public anger, public disquiet? People see blood-sucking parasites everywhere they look nowadays. The papers bang on about vampire squid and vultures. Last night at Le Cap, he listened in as a bunch of wealthy humans discussed 'bankers': "They're going for Goldie; who's next? Barcode Bob?"

He thinks: Goldie? Do humans have their own 'Goldies' - their own bloodsuckers? Maybe every species has its parasites - like every species has its mugs, its slaves, its worker bees. And what of Barcode Bob? Does he deserve what's coming to him? What exactly is coming to him? Being a parasite - was it okay once? But now... a bit last season?

He asks Matt where that other 'Goldie' - the squid - lives, and pays him a visit. The squid and the vulture know right away - forget Darwin - that they're same species. They get on like a house on fire, swallowing endless Martinis and ramming enough coke up their breathing apparatus to kill a horse . "Every creature," says Goldie, "Every 'Morgan', every 'Goldie' can go too far sometimes - if they're allowed. Like drug addicts, they'll take everything they can lay their hands on. But because we're talking money here, and because money ain't a drug - not officially at least - they can say to the political animals, the self styled kings of beasts: DON'T tell us what to do. DON'T regulate us. This is real life. This is not a drug... or some kindergarten fantasy. You CANNOT regulate real life... Oh, and just to show we're on the right side, and that we really do care.... here, have some of our, like, earnings, our largesse... and why not come and stay some time? And now, could you please run along and kindly get the fuck out of our lives."

"Well, well, well. I cannot tell you how often I have used that line." says Morgan

Goldie laughs. "Me too."

"It works. Every time."

"Maybe it shouldn't. Sometimes we need to be saved from ourselves."

"Sometimes... perhaps. I know a lot of dead vultures... guys who were a little too greedy. Ended up eating their own livers, their own viscera."

"Yuk. Heard similar stories."

"Problem is, Goldie, these self-styled "political animals" - the ones who say they'll contend with the really greedy guys - they can end up going too far in the other direction... stopping everything. Or sometimes they say they'll stop the greed... until they get a taste for it."

"You know why that is?"

"I got a view. Love to hear yours."

"They're only in it for themselves... this political class, this leadership class"

"They'd deny that, most of them. And I've argued this, both sides, many times."

"Believe me. They are. Some of them don't even realise it. A lot of it's psychological, why they want power... You know, fucked up childhoods, hang-ups about being short, that kinda thing."

"Anyway, there's some other Goldie, I understand - some human Goldie - and apparently, he's going down.

"Yep. Got too greedy, they say. One of them banker guys."

"Something else I overheard at Le Cap... Who's this Barcode Bob guy they're talking about?"

"Barcode Bob, the Bottomfeeder. Ha! I reckon... I reckon they might indict him on similar charges as Goldie at some point. More greed... He was doing fine, making a stack. Then he and his bottom feeder associates, they thought they'd tart up some low grade innards and other crap and then - get this - sell it to the big, big fish - the sharks, the barracuda, even the whales. Can you believe it?"

"Jeeeesuz! I thought those guys never touched that kind of stuff."

"Yep," replies the squid. "Never as simple as it seems though is it?"

"You're not kidding."

"And I'll tell you something else."

"What's that?"

"They say Barcode Bob knows where one or two bodies are buried."

"Bodies? Really?"

"Oh, yeah."

(To be continued...)

Election Debate - The Director's Cut

We all know they had to stick to the rules. And we know these rules were agreed months ago. But most people don't know about the cut.

This is all we have to go on... For now at least.


Alistair Stewart: This question is from Adrian. He comes from Basingstoke and has a question about banking.

Adrian: What would each of the leaders do to avoid a repeat of the banking crisis of 2008?

David: It is clear what occurred two years ago was simply unacceptable. The ex-Chancellor, the Prime Minister, Gordon Brown, was clearly out of touch... on the back foot, from the start of the Northern Rock debacle, through to the Icelandic Banking Crisis. He is now still out of touch because he has neither the will nor the desire to build an international consensus on banking regulation. The Conservatives would abandon his reactive approach and act proactively to formulate policies such as the separation of retail and investment banking. This would ensure that "shutting the stable door" would never again happen.

Alistair Stewart: Gordon?

Gordon: I can announce today that a Labour government will pass legislation to ensure that British air space will never again be subject to Icelandic volcanic eruptions, including those that start in America. We must safeguard our airspace, our airlines, our air miles, our airports that pay homage to consumer capitalism with duty free, the financial interests of those who travel on aeroplanes, the businesses that depend on this essential transport service...

David: (Rudely) Yeah, yeah. We get it, windbag. Change the record.

Alistair Stewart: Please gentlemen!

Gordon: (Ignoring both) Never again will a British airport or a British plane be endangered by a foreign volcano. We will have a Volcano Day when the British people can come together and discuss the issues surrounding Icelandic, and indeed other nearby volcanic eruptions. We will promise a policy of British airspace for British flyers.

Alistair Stewart: Nick?

Gordon: (Interrupts) Can I also add that Nick agrees with everything I say, so he can simply endorse my views, if he finds it easier.

Nick: Yeah, right. Thanks, Gordon. (Whispers) Ass-hole.

Alistair Stewart: Please, Gordon. You've had your go.

Gordon: Can I smile?

Alistair Stewart: Please, please, Gordon! Over to you Nick...

Nick: Our party is clearly not going to win, so I can be, like, slightly more relaxed and flexible and say things that the other two leaders could never risk saying? I will be the one who looks good, appears laid back, smiles sweetly, winks knowingly and occasionally kinda purrs... I'm the guy who says things that make people feel comfortable - especially the ladies - I just luv to put the gals at their ease. I am essentially… cool... Co-oo-ool! And in the event of a well-hung Parliament, ladies, I will fight for the best possible deal for British guys and, most important, British gals. The best deal, that's right... Which is also, like, cool... Or at least, if not cool, it'll be kinda cosy. Capiche?

Election Debate - The Verdict

Question: How long does it take to change a light bulb?

Answer: Give me another five years and I'll tell you.

Morgan the Vulture and the Vampire Squid

Morgan was rather pleased with himself. He'd sold the lions and all the other important animals a pile of dead vulture meat. He reckoned he deserved a well-earned rest. So he headed for the Med., where the rich vultures flocked and found himself a perch near St Jean. There he spotted a guy rolling stones into the sea. He wondered what he was up to, so he flew down and perched nearby.

"What you doing?" he asked.

"What d'ya think? Rolling stones."

"Why?"

"Trying to get the vampire squid. The fucker's in there somewhere."

Morgan flew a little closer. "Hi, sorry, should've said, name's Morgan."

"Hi, I'm Matt."

"What's a vampire squid?" asked Morgan naively.

"Come on, man. He's the greedy fuck that sucks the pond life dry. Can you believe this dude's called Goldie? Like, hello? Where's the gold, man? But I'll tell you what: I'm Goldie's nemesis."

"Or perhaps Goldie's yours." said Morgan innocently.

Matt didn't respond so Morgan asked, "What's the problem with this squid?"

"What's the problem? I'll tell you what the problem is. This dude soaks up everything for miles around... sucks it up until the entire system is out of kilter. He wraps his tentacles around the faces of all the animals in that eco-system and takes way more than any single squid could possibly need. Then he departs and leaves behind a wasteland in which every remaining beast finds it a real struggle to survive."

Morgan knew he had to be cautious. Matt had just described something that could sum up his own approach to life. So he played safe: "Maybe that's all he knows, this squid... Like a lot of animals. He knows nothing else."

"All he knows. So fucking what?" said Matt.

"So maybe it's not his fault. He just does what comes naturally."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, maybe it's the fault of all the dudes who say they represent the interests of all the other beasts, the pond life you mentioned. I see this kind of thing where I live all the time. The lions and the tigers and all the other "kings of the beasts", who know it's to their advantage, they buy every friggin' piece of friggin' shit I sell them. Then they justify it to their prides, their tribes, their whatever you want to call them."

"Tribes'll do."

"Okay, tribes. But, I'm saying that this Goldie is just doing what any squid would do. And the real problem is not Goldie, it's these so-called lions and tigers, or these sea-lions... and these pond-tigers or whatever, who say they represent the interests of all the animals, but who are actually making a tidy sum out of dealing with guys like Goldie and me."

"Yeah, but so what? If my rolling stones hit Goldie, then that's problem over, surely? Problem solved?"

"Nope. All that'll happen is, another vampire squid'll come along and take Goldie's place. So what'll that achieve? You'll be back to square one."

Matt thought about this, then said. "Yeah, suppose you've got a point, dude." He straightened up "You know, you're quite smart for a vulture."

"All vultures are smart, Matt. It's just, some are smarter than others."

Matt liked Morgan and thought he might like to hang out with him. "Hey, Morgan why don't you come over here and grab a line." He held out his flask. "And a shot?"

But Morgan declined. "Three years it's been, Matt." he said earnestly. "And I found out a while ago that they even have meetings down here in St Jean. So I'll say no, if you don't mind."

Matt shrugged but appeared to understand. And with that, Morgan flew off to hang out with all the other rich vultures that flocked to St Jean at this time of year. He wasn't really off the sauce - or the dope. He simply preferred to grab the kind of lines that vultures grab when they're on vacation... or at home... or wherever on earth they happen to be.

(to be continued...)

Morgan the Vulture - A Fairy tale in many, many parts

Once upon a time there was a vulture called Morgan - and a very happy vulture he was. You see, Morgan used to spend all his time gliding over the plains looking for dead bodies. Oh how he loved those dead bodies! He even loved the not-quite-so-dead bodies, not to mention the weak and the vulnerable ones. In fact he basically loved easy meat, did Morgan. Which meant, any meat he could lay his beak on with the minimum of effort

What a wonderful life it was! Morgan loved nothing more than to survey the plain in the early evening when the sun was going down. This was a good time to find a dehydrating gazelle, exhausted and soon to expire. And as soon as the animal began twitching and its expression went vacant, he'd swoop down and fill his fat, greedy, bloated guts with the tainted flesh of the dying creature.

Sweet! No exertion involved, no complications. He often thought how stupid the King of the Beasts was. He knew that lions, just like all the other big cats, had to go through much labour to fill their proud tummies. They had to expend so much effort, so much industry. Whereas Morgan simply dealt with the remains. And what rich pickings those remains provided.

But one day Morgan noticed that many of his fellow vultures were becoming sick and weak. The first stage, he noticed, was coughing and spluttering. Then the vultures lost the ability to take off and fly. Then they started vomiting and going very, very, deathly pale.

Morgan thought there must be some really dodgy flesh knocking about the plain. Because, boys and girls, some flesh is too purulent, too rotten, too toxic even for vultures. And so it came to pass that the other vultures started dropping like flies - like very big fucking flies, I'll warrant you.

But Morgan was okey-dokey. You see, he was a wily old bird and he avoided the really stinking, oozing, festering flesh. He stayed fit and well fed. And he carried on much as he had before.

But there's something else you should know about Morgan: he was also a very imaginitive, a very creative birdie. And he hit upon an idea: There was so much vulture meat now knocking around on account of the plague and what-not, that he thought "I could do a nice little sideline in flogging it, I could."

And so he went about the plain and said to the lions and the tigers and the panthers and the cheetahs and the leopards and the crocodiles and the hyenas and the... anyway, you get the message... He said to them, "Hey, dude, wanna know the deal? Even a vulture can provide you a meal."

And you know what? All these majestic animals, even the big, cool cats, they all said yes, because times were tough on the plain what with global warming and the fucked up balance of the ecosystem and they went and bought every ounce of vulture meat that Morgan had.

Boy-o-boy-o-boy-o-boy! What a nice little earner this was for the wily vulture. He was making a mint (which was not what his vulture flesh smelt like, I can tell you). But times were good for him all of a sudden. And who would have thought it after all that nasty old vulture pestilence that had occurred so recently.

And none of the animals knew what he was getting up to and how he was getting so rich.They just could not see how it was possible when the economy of the plain was so totally fucked up and chaotic and twisted and when even the King of the Beasts was having a really shit time.

But, in chapter two, boys and girls, we'll find out what happened next to Morgan and his vulture way of life, and how it was that all the other animals turned a blind eye to everything that Morgan did.

(to be continued...)

I am not a number

David Cameron and William Hague are discussing the pitch for their “people-empowerment” agenda. They want a popular frame of reference that'll get across the idea that individual citizens can make a difference. The remake of the cult sixties series "The Prisoner" is about to appear on television. Could it offer an avenue worth exploring?


Hague: Of course the line that everyone remembers is, I am not a number.

Cameron: (Laughs) I am not a number. Yes. Love it.

Hague: Classic line. Has resonance even today David, does it not?

Cameron: It does. Everyone knows what it means

Hague: ... People quoting it on television

Cameron: That might be to do with the remake, of course.

Hague: Possibly.

Cameron: (Smiles) You're not a number, are you, William?

Hague: Me, David? No, most definitely not. I am most definitely not a number.

Cameron: Me neither, William. One thing Eton taught one was that one is not a number.

Hague: And even with my state education, I can quite categorically say that one is not a number either.

Cameron: You did do your thing, your speech, didn't you? You know, party conference back in 1976, as a wee nipper. Some might say that you were already a career politician back then. The party hierarchy already had your, er, number, if you like

Hague: (Chuckles) Very funny, David. But in all earnestness, I would say that my appearance at conference back then would actually prove that I was an individual - even as a wee nipper, as you so appositely put it

Cameron: In a tweed jacket was it not?

Hague: Well, yes, David. But that just shows once again how much of an individual I was. No one in my school would have been caught dead wearing a tweed jacket back then. One would have been the laughing stock.

Cameron: I'm sure one would, William.

Hague: Anyway, we're straying from the point if you don't mind my saying.

Cameron: Of course. Your point...

Hague: Which is that this government under Gordon Brown treats people as numbers. This lot, they eat sleep and dream numbers, statistics, numerical analysis.

Cameron: Not wrong there.

Hague: So, this is what we need to be getting across, in my view. We could even test out the campaign slogan perhaps: "I am not a number."

Cameron: "You are not a number?"

Hague: No, I just said, Dave. I am not a num...

Cameron: No, I meant as a slogan.

Hague: Oh, I see. Yes. You mean, we say in our presentation, "You are not a number."

Cameron:  Exactly. That's what we say: "You are not a number."

Hague: Although, we do have to be careful there. We can't TELL people that they are not numbers. Telling people that kind of thing is what Gordon and his lot would do. You know: You are NOT a number. I'm telling YOU. YOU are NOT a number!

Cameron: Fair point. Mind you, just imagine what a nerve it would be for Gordon Brown to quote from "The Prisoner", what with his record on civil rights. Remember Damian Green, for example? Not to mention databases, ID cards, 48 days detention etc etc.

Hague: It would indeed take some chutzpah were he to do that David. But I wouldn't put it past him.

Cameron: No, you're right. I wouldn't either... Well, maybe we ought to start using this quote pronto, before he has the chance to get it out.

Hague: Good idea. We'll get it out before he does. Then he'll look stupid if he starts telling people that they're not a number, after we have already told people they're not a number.

Cameron: Or that they are not numbers, to, you know, use the grammatical...

Hague: Yes, I'll correct myself, if I may... That they are not numbers.

Cameron: Anyway at least that means we'll steal a march on him, if he does think of making any references to "The Prisoner" when the remake launches, whenever that is.

Hague: I'll talk to Pickles about it immediately. See how he might want to play it.

Cameron: Good man, William. I really reckon that this could pay dividends.

Hague: Indeed it could, David.

(The two sit back and reflect for a couple of moments)

Cameron: Of course... You know, one thing worries me though, William.

Hague: What's that?

Cameron: It's the fact that we are all, in a certain sense, prisoners nowadays. Politicians included.

Hague: Yes, David?

Cameron: Yes, we're all having to play the same game.... the same consensus game. It's the fight for the same old middle ground, the fight for the same old hearts and minds - for which New Labour originally fought... We're all prisoners now. We can't do anything in politics anymore without it having some kind of popular... some kind of middle of the road frame of reference.

Hague: Very true, David. And you have to ask yourself: Why is that? Who started it all?

Cameron: Well, I suppose it was, I don't know, we politicians who started it all?

Hague: Exactly, David. It was down to politicians in the first place, I do believe, that one, that one and all are... are? is? (Looks confused)

Cameron: Are, William. It's are!

Hague: Yes, that one and all are effectively numbers nowadays.

This is no ordinary shopping list, this is a Labour Party shopping list

Gordon Brown has said that the Labour manifesto is not "an expensive shopping list, spraying promises as the Tories have been doing." Quite what he means is anyone's guess. But here goes...

Ed Milipede: I think the voters'll go for it Gordon. There are some really cool commitments.

Gordon: Yes, great presentation. Lovely graphics and special effects. I especially like the animation. I am sure it'll appeal to younger voters. Very modern.

Ed: Yes, but Gordon. There's one commitment that isn't in this manifesto, which worries me a bit.

Gordon: What's that?

Ed: The commitment that a Labour government will honour its manifesto committments.

Gordon: The commitment that, you what? What are you talking about?

Ed: Well it's the one commitment that voters never hear - but which they'd probably like to.

Gordon: Oh, don't be silly Ed. The manifesto is not about what they want to hear. It's about what we want to say. It's about us 'manifesting'. It's not about them, them...  'audifesting' or whatever it would be called.

Ed: Audifesting? Audifesto? Yeah, like it. Listening to what the voter wants. Could catch on one day.

Gordon: But come on Ed. We don't have time for all this. This (waves manifesto in his face) is our mission statement. Get it? Our mission statement.

Ed: Yeah, okay, Gordon. Mission statement, I suppose you're right.

Gordon: (Big smile) I'm manifestly right, Ed. Do you get it? Manifestly?

Ed: Yes, very good, Prime Minister. Manifestly.

Gordon: Yes, I'm manifestly right, Ed. And that is why this is my, our manifesto.

Ed: Yeah, okay Gordon. But if we are in fact re-elected then you realise that the electorate would never trust us ever again if we broke even a single commitment within this manifesto. They really would not. It'd be bye-bye.

Gordon: Let's worry about that when or if the time comes, Ed. For the time being, let's just get re-elected.

Ed: But, Gordon. Isn't that what they all say? You know, politicians? Worry about it when the time comes?

Gordon: Yes, Ed. But pity the poor sod whose job it'll be to go through this purple prose with a fine tooth comb looking for all those itty bitty commitments that we broke. I don't envy him or her that job. Especially in view of the fact that most people will by then be rather indifferent. Let's face it, most people have a hard enough time going through manifestos as it is - and that's before the election.

Ed: Yes, true, true, Gordon. You're right there.

Gordon: Ed, I'm manifestly right. (Grins) Am I not?

Ed: (Forced laugh) Yeah, Gordon, absolutely. You're manifestly right.

pRT wl spk 2 d yung

Labour launched it's manifesto today and it's clear that it's designed to appeal to the under eighteens - people who don't have the vote.

Either that, or the average voter is so stupid that text speak and references to Jedward are the only way in which the party can connect these days.

Labour Party Manifesto, Mandifesto, Milifesto,

A spectre is haunting Britain - the spectre of cynicism

Tomorrow, Labour will be first to launch its manifesto. The nation will pick through it with a fine tooth comb, certain in the knowledge that it will shock, excite, bamboozle and bore. Ed Miliband wrote it. But tomorrow, will the voters of Britain write it off?

On this site you will find a real-time analysis of the lies as they come in. And of course, we'll be asking the most important question of all: Who reads this shit anyway?