Debate 1: Economics, Cable Takes It!

If you didn’t tune into Channel 4 this evening, then you missed a truly thrilling televised debate. True, the audience at this debate were yawning, looking at their shoes and scratching their arses, but it was thrilling, damnit!

The event was of course the Chancellors debate, with Chancellor Alistair Darling, George Osborne and Vince Cable battling it out over the economy. Perhaps it was because they weren’t party leaders that they had the freedom to actually discuss issues of worth, but it was the best piece of politics we’ve had in ages.

As many predicted, the Liberal Democrat’s lethal weapon, Vince Cable came out best, putting the others to shame. However, the debate benefited the others too, as Darling came across measured and thoughtful. Even George Osborne showed himself in a better light, though he was clearly held back by confused Tory policies. Time and time again he would say something that you could tell he internally disagreed with and this led to his answers seeming muddled, pulled too far in every direction with Cameron’s obsession with good headlines.

Great stuff, highlights include: Vince Cable refusing to ringfence the NHS budget but saying that he would prioritise mental health as it’s already woefully underfunded, and Darling cracking a gag about cross-party cooperation when accused of stealing a tory policy.

Looking forward to the leaders debates which’ll be far more bloody, but far less informative.

What I Won’t Be Doing On Election Day

I won’t be taking part in the May election. Sure I’ll vote, I’ll complain, I’ll rant endlessly to whoever will indulge me a moment, but I will not knock on peoples doors like I did in 2005. I’ll never do that again.

As soon as a person dons a political party badge a strange thing happens. They cease to be a human being. All likeable attributes are immediately stripped from the poor bastard and what is left is a walking target for the masses to throw shit at.

“You’re all the same!” they would howl at me as they slammed the door in my face so hard they were hoping the wood would fuse and never open again. I was always perplexed at that. How was I in any way like the Tories against whom I campaigned? But then, I was on the inside looking out, if only I could have seen me through their eyes I would have witnessed the faceless political blob I’d become, a walking advertisement for corruption, dodgy dealing and lies. Yes, the moment I’d tried to change Britain for the better I’d revealed myself to be the enemy.

So no thank you very much! Not this time. This year I’m going to be the one slamming doors. I’m going to be the one heckling some poor idealist who only wants to add you to his long list of “undecided”. You just watch me! I’ve been training my mouth to produce more saliva for extra spitting volume.

Of course that wasn’t the most gruesome aspect of election day. The true horror happens when you spend a whole day at the voting booths themselves. The average voter turns up, shambles into a little cubical, has some alone time, and then returns to deposit their vote. Its all rather similar to a sperm donor clinic, very similar if you think about it; most people’s votes are wank anyway. This is the truth you see when you witness voters close up. For a whole day.

First you have the grey vote. You remember the original Dawn of the Dead? When all the zombies gather at the shopping mall, mindlessly going through the same motions they used to when they were alive? Well it’s the same on election day with OAP’s voting Tory. They don’t know why, but they feel compelled to do it. As they totter in you can hear them chatting about how it’s nice to have a day out, “Oh I don’t know anything about politics, but its nice to see people down the community centre”. And it is a nice day out for them, who can knock that? The problem is that they are slowly strangling out political system just so they can have a nice day time, kind of like an entertainer on the tube filling balloon animals with nerve gas.

Then you have the working class who are so out of touch with modern times that they actually still refer to themselves as “working class” instead of middle class which is what they are. They hark on about always voting labour as if they are still the beleaguered underdogs set upon by Thatcher who must stick together no matter what, instead of the dirty sell outs they spend all their waking consciousness pretending not to be.

The final major group are the liars. These are the ones who sneak into the polling booths to vote conservative because they a) hate foreigners, b) are quite well off and would like lower taxes to get even more well off, c) hate people who aren’t foreigners but look like they should be, d) are a bit scared of Europe, or e) are deeply sexually repressed and want to stop anyone else having any fun whatsoever. People of this ilk usually have the sense to be ashamed of their vote, so when leaving swear they voted for another party. This is why there is a disparity between the exit-polls and the final results. It’s called the tory-bounce. And it’s shameful.

The last stragglers are the cocky superior arse-holes who think they’re all that because they vote morally, which usually means they vote lib-dem. Being such a young party, the liberals don’t have the advantage of feeding upon peoples sense of tribalism, instead they have to convince voters with things like “policy”. Can you believe it? Crazy! The result is that all lib dem voters get all smug that they actually put some thought into it. Some even write lengthy blogs slating all other sorts of voter, the scummy bastards!

This small group of voters is the reason why the lib dems are stuck around the 17-19% mark in the polls and are doomed to never shift. There simply aren’t enough voters out there willing to put thought into their vote. They can never compete with the greys, the greed-heads, the working-middle classes and the swingers.

The swingers, by the way, are not the sexually liberated fellows you’re thinking of, but swing voters who confuse polls by being easily duped into supporting either Labour or Conservative depending upon what the tabloids told them that day. You won’t see them at the polling stations though, they’re far too fickle. If you want a little cup of political jizz, you have to turn to the others.