Did the LibDems win the locals?

Hector Drummond Posted on by

This post extends on Sam Duncan’s point made in the comments:

looking at the raw numbers (that is, without the context of the previous local elections) it's basically a pretty solid Tory win. Not a landslide by any means - at a 28% vote share they were neck-and-neck with Labour - but 3,562 seats is still over 1,000 more than Labour and almost <em>three times</em> what the LibDems won. And they still hold almost 100 of the councils that were contested, compared to the Libs' 18.

Of course, <em>in</em> context it was a deservedly awful night for them, and a good one for Vince's mob, but these things are relative. People are talking as if - no, they're actually <em>saying</em> - the LibDems won. They absolutely didn't. Not even close.

Here are the seats won (from BBC, results may not be completely up-to-date, but are close to the end result):

The LibDems won 1351 out of 8410 seats, which is 16%. They won 2200 seats less than the Tories, and over 650 less than Labour. They only just won more than ‘Others’. And this was despite the Conservative national government being absolutely reviled by their own supporters, and Labour voters deserting their party in droves. Supporters of the traditional parties stayed away in massive numbers yet the LibDems still came a distant third. I don’t call that victory. It may have been a disastrous night for Tories, and a very bad one for Labour, but the LimpDicks still lost big.

I’ll have to have a look at the absolute numbers when they come out, which will make things clearer, but it looks to me like what happened is that the usual small amount of LibDem voters turned out, while a lot of voters for the big two didn’t. It doesn’t look like it was the case that voters who had previously voted Conservative and Labour switched to the LibDems. That’s what a lot of people seem to be assuming, and when you see the percentage data for each council it’s easy to think that’s what happened, but I don’t think it did. The same old people voted for the LibDems, it’s just that the LibDems then benefited from the lower turnout, or the spoiled ballots, from former ‘big two’ voters. But there were still far more voters for the big two than the LibDems despite all that.

If the LibDems can’t pick up voters in that scenario then that indicates that the LibDems have no hope of ever improving their lot.

It also indicates that there aren’t many votes for a Remainer party. The LibDems are practically the official Remain party, and Remainers are fanatics who will always turn out to vote whenever possible, yet 16% in the local elections, which always have small turnouts, was all they can get? Remain is a dead duck electorally.

It is true that things will get even worse, much worse, for the Tories in the Euros because then there will be alternatives that many of their voters will vote for instead of them (or instead of staying home, or instead of spoiling their ballots). But things will also get worse, far worse, for the LibDems, because the same people will vote for them then, only those people will constitute a smaller percentage of the turnout for that vote. And no-one else will vote for them. And some of their regular voters might even vote for the CUKs.

The worst night of all, however, was had by UKIP. There are excuses that can be made for them, of course: the media has stitched them up, they didn’t run that many candidates, their vote gets spread rather than clustered in particular seats which they then win, and so on, but the sad fact is that the situation was tailor-made for them, and they totally failed to capitalise. That for me is the saddest part of the local results.

Update: Here’s some typical BS LibDem spin from Tim Farron:

The Speccie’s top 40 horrors in the WA

Hector Drummond Posted on by

I trust the Spectator won’t mind me passing on the text of this article, as (a) it’s extremely important; and (b) it illustrates why you should get a Speccie sub.

 

 

Theresa May’s government has teetered on the point of collapse over her proposed Brexit deal. The withdrawal agreement between the UK and Brussels led to Dominic Raab and Esther McVey resigning in protest. However, May’s remaining ministers have since attempted to rally around her at least in the short term. Speaking on Friday, Liam Fox – the International Trade Secretary – gave a speech in which he declared ‘a deal is better than no deal’. This is rather different to May’s old claim that ‘no deal is better than a bad deal’.

So, is Fox right? Mr S thought it best to let readers decide for themselves. In theory, Britain is leaving the EU on 29 March 2019. But the legal small print, published by Brussels, shows what this means. Parliament will be asked to ratify a deal which clearly admits that ‘all references to ‘Member States’ and competent authorities of Member States…shall be read as including the United Kingdom.’ (Article 7). So the UK will be bound by EU laws, at least during a transition period. But this ‘transition period’ can be be made to last forever (Article 132).  And even if a successor deal is agreed, the UK will have signed away other rights for years to come.

Just in case readers don’t have the time to go through the lengthly document themselves, Steerpike has compiled a list of the top 40 horrors lurking in the small print of Theresa May’s Brexit deal.

Once you’ve finished reading this – why not try 10 Downing Street’s 40 rebuttals here. And our rebuttals to those rebuttals here.

In summary: The supposed ‘transition period’ could last indefinitely or, more specifically, to an undefined date sometime this century (“up to 31 December 20XX”, Art. 132). So while this Agreement covers what the government is calling Brexit, what we in fact get is: ‘transition’ + extension indefinitely (by however many years we are willing to pay for) + all of those extra years from the ‘plus 8 years’ articles.

Should it end within two years, as May hopes, the UK will still be signed up to clauses keeping us under certain rules (like VAT and ECJ supervision) for a further eight years. Some clauses have, quite literally, a “lifetime” duration (Art.39). If the UK defaults on transition, we go in to the backstop with the Customs Union and, realistically, the single market. We can only leave the transition positively with a deal. But we sign away the money. So the EU has no need to give us a deal, and certainly no incentive to make the one they offered ‘better’ than the backstop. The European Court of Justice remains sovereign, as repeatedly stipulated. Perhaps most damagingly of all, we agree to sign away the rights we would have, under international law, to unilaterally walk away. Again, what follows relates (in most part) for the “transition” period. But the language is consistent with the E.U. imagining that this will be the final deal.

The top 40 horrors:

  1. From the offset, we should note that this is an EU text, not a UK or international text. This has one source. The Brexit agreement is written in Brussels.
  2. May says her deal means the UK leaves the EU next March. The Withdrawal Agreement makes a mockery of this. “All references to Member States and competent authorities of Member States…shall be read as including the United Kingdom.” (Art 6). Not quite what most people understand by Brexit. It goes on to spell out that the UK will be in the EU but without any MEPs, a commissioner or ECJ judges. We are effectively a Member State, but we are excused – or, more accurately, excluded – from attending summits. (Article 7)
  3. The European Court of Justice is decreed to be our highest court, governing the entire Agreement – Art. 4. stipulates that both citizens and resident companies can use it. Art 4.2 orders our courts to recognise this. “If the European Commission considers that the United Kingdom has failed to fulfil an obligation under the Treaties or under Part Four of this Agreement before the end of the transition period, the European Commission may, within 4 years after the end of the transition period, bring the matter before the Court of Justice of the European Union”. (Art. 87)
  4. The jurisdiction of the ECJ will last until eight years after the end of the transition period. (Article 158).
  5. The UK will still be bound by any future changes to EU law in which it will have no say, not to mention having to comply with current law. (Article 6(2))
  6. Any disputes under the Agreement will be decided by EU law only – one of the most dangerous provisions. (Article 168). This cuts the UK off from International Law, something we’d never do with any foreign body. Arbitration will be governed by the existing procedural rules of the EU law – this is not arbitration as we would commonly understand it (i.e. between two independent parties). (Article 174)
  7. “UNDERLINING that this Agreement is founded on an overall balance of benefits, rights and obligations for the Union and the United Kingdom” No, it should be based upon the binding legal obligations upon the EU contained within Article 50. It is wrong to suggest otherwise.
  8. The tampon tax clause: We obey EU laws on VAT, with no chance of losing the tampon tax even if we agree a better deal in December 2020 because we hereby agree to obey other EU VAT rules for **five years** after the transition period. Current EU rules prohibit 0-rated VAT on products (like tampons) that did not have such exemptions before the country joined the EU.
  9. Several problems with the EU’s definitions: “Union law” is too widely defined and “United Kingdom national” is defined by the Lisbon Treaty: we should given away our right to define our citizens. The “goods” and the term “services” we are promised the deal are not defined – or, rather, will be defined however the EU wishes them to be. Thus far, this a non-defined term so far. This agreement fails to define it.
  10. The Mandelson Pension Clause: The UK must promise never to tax former EU officials based here – such as Peter Mandelson or Neil Kinnock – on their E.U. pensions, or tax any current Brussels bureaucrats on their salaries. The EU and its employees are to be immune to our tax laws. (Article 104)
  11. Furthermore, the UK agrees not to prosecute EU employees who are, or who might be deemed in future, criminals (Art.101)
  12. The GDPR clause. The General Data Protection Regulation – the EU’s stupidest law ever? – is to be bound into UK law (Articles 71 to 73). There had been an expectation in some quarters that the UK could get out of it.
  13. The UK establishes a ‘Joint Committee’ with EU representatives to guarantee ‘the implementation and application of this Agreement’. This does not sound like a withdrawal agreement – if it was, why would it need to be subject to continued monitoring? (Article 164). This Joint Committee will have subcommittees with jurisdiction over: (a) citizens’ rights; (b) “other separation provisions”; (c) Ireland/Northern Ireland; (d) Sovereign Base Areas in Cyprus; (e) Gibraltar; and (f) financial provisions. (Article 165)
  14. The Lifetime clause: the agreement will last as long as the country’s youngest baby lives. “the persons covered by this Part shall enjoy the rights provided for in the relevant Titles of this Part for their lifetime”. (Article 39).
  15. The UK is shut out of all EU networks and databases for security – yet no such provision exists to shut the EU out of ours. (Article 8)
  16. The UK will tied to EU foreign policy, “bound by the obligations stemming from the international agreements concluded by the Union” but unable to influence such decisions. (Article 124)
  17. All EU citizens must be given permanent right of residence after five years – but what counts as residence? This will be decided by the EU, rather than UK rules. (Articles 15-16)
  18. Britain is granted the power to send a civil servant to Brussels to watch them pass stupid laws which will hurt our economy. (Article 34)
  19. The UK agrees to spend taxpayers’ money telling everyone how wonderful the agreement is. (Article 37)
  20. Art 40 defines Goods. It seems to includes Services and Agriculture. We may come to discover that actually ‘goods’ means everything.
  21. Articles 40-49 practically mandate the UK’s ongoing membership of the Customs Union in all but name.
  22. The UK will be charged to receive the data/information we need in order to comply with EU law. (Article 50)
  23. The EU will continue to set rules for UK intellectual property law (Article 54 to 61)
  24. The UK will effectively be bound by a non-disclosure agreement swearing us to secrecy regarding any EU developments we have paid to be part. This is not mutual. The EU is not bound by such measures. (Article 74)
  25. The UK is bound by EU rules on procurement rules – which effectively forbids us from seeking better deals elsewhere. (Articles 75 to 78)
  26. We give up all rights to any data the EU made with our money (Art. 103)
  27. The EU decide capital projects (too broadly defined) the UK is liable for. (Art. 144)
  28. The UK is bound by EU state aid laws until future agreement – even in the event of an agreement, this must wait four years to be valid. (Article 93)
  29. Similar advantages and immunities are extended to all former MEPs and to former EU official more generally. (Articles 106-116)
  30. The UK is forbidden from revealing anything the EU told us or tells us about the finer points of deal and its operation. (Article 105).
  31. Any powers the UK parliament might have had to mitigate EU law are officially removed. (Article 128)
  32. The UK shall be liable for any “outstanding commitments” after 2022 (Article 142(2) expressly mentions pensions, which gives us an idea as to who probably negotiated this). The amount owed will be calculated by the EU. (Articles 140-142)
  33. The UK will be liable for future EU lending. As anyone familiar with the EU’s financials knows, this is not good. (Article 143)
  34. The UK will remain liable for capital projects approved by the European Investment Bank. (Article 150).
  35. The UK will remain a ‘party’ (i.e. cough up money) for the European Development Fund. (Articles 152-154)
  36. And the EU continues to calculate how much money the UK should pay it. So thank goodness Brussels does not have any accountancy issues.
  37. The UK will remain bound (i.e coughing up money) to the European Union Emergency Trust Fund – which deals with irregular migration (i.e. refugees) and displaced persons heading to Europe. (Article 155)
  38. The agreement will be policed by ‘the Authority’ – a new UK-based body with ‘powers equivalent to those of the European Commission’. (Article 159)
  39. The EU admits, in Art. 184, that it is in breach of  Article 50 of the Lisbon Treaty which oblige it to “conclude an agreement” of the terms of UK leaving the EU. We must now, it seems, “negotiate expeditiously the agreements governing their future relationship.” And if the EU does not? We settle down to this Agreement.
  40. And, of course, the UK will agree to pay £40bn to receive all of these ‘privileges’. (Article 138)

 

You can see the government’s responses to these points, and the Spectator’s responses to those, here.

The Biscuit Factory Vol. I: Days of Wine and Cheese serialisation. Part 66

Hector Drummond Posted on by

2001-02

Semester 2

Week 9

Wednesday (continued)

 

Ren heads towards the side of the stage. He knows there’s a door there at the back behind a curtain, which leads to a toilet and a small, hidden-away office. Even if the door is locked he can at least hide behind the curtain so he doesn’t get caught up in the fighting.

He goes past the curtain and tries the door. It opens. The office behind it, next to the toilet, belongs to Foz McKendry, Research Fellow in History, who Ren knows through the occasional game in the University’s social cricket league. (The story about Foz’s crooked nose is that it was caused by a solution to a research problem coming to him just as he was facing up to a vicious bouncer, causing him to lose interest in the ball, until the point at which the ball managed to wrest his attention back again by hitting his nose and breaking it.) Ren sometimes comes to visit Foz, which is why he knows of this office’s existence. Hardly anyone else does, not least because the door to Foz’s office looks like the door to a broom closet. The door doesn’t even go all the way to the floor. Foz thinks the room was most likely a storage room before the critical shortage of office space on campus meant that it got converted into an office. It’s not an office that anyone else would willingly have, but Foz was desperate to have his own space, however small, rather than be in a noisy postgrad shared office.

Ren automatically tries the handle to Foz’s office, even though there’s no way he could be in. Surprisingly, it opens. Even more surprisingly, Foz is in his office.

‘Hallo Ren,’ says Foz. ‘I’m surprised to see you here when there’s some big event going on in the hall at the moment. In fact I was tempted to take a peek at what’s happening because it’s so noisy out there, but I thought I’d better not, as I don’t think I’m supposed to be here this evening. Besides, I do have this paper I really want to finish tonight.’

‘Can I come in?’ says Ren. ‘Bit of a disturbance going on. Political protests.’

As he says this a Murnesian politician and security guard appear in the small corridor as well.

‘We need come in too,’ says the politician, having a look inside the room. ‘If that preases.’

‘Why yes, you can all come in,’ says Foz, ‘but it’ll be a bit of a squeeze. It’s not the biggest room.’ They go into office, which contains a small desk and chair, an armchair, Foz’s cricket bag, and not much else.

‘Where window?’ says the guard.

‘No window in here, it’s completely internal,’ says Foz. ‘I know what you’re thinking – I should complain, right? But for a Research Fellow on a two-year contract, this is as good as it gets.’

‘What this?’ says the guard, indicating a large vent in the top of the wall.

‘Just a vent,’ says Foz.

The guard goes over to it and rips the vent grille off the wall. Then he tries to get into the vent.

‘You’re not going to fit through there,’ says Foz. ‘I know what you’re thinking. What does a historian know about spatial dimensions? But it’s your shoulders. Anyone can see they’re too broad.’

Foz, it appears, is right. The guard gets his body halfway into the vent, and then gets stuck. They can hear his muffled shouting. Ren and Foz try to pull him out, without success.

‘Ignore him,’ says the politician. ‘I need to hide. Quick. Where can I hide?’

Foz indicates the room. ‘Nowhere to hide in here, as you can plainly see.’

They can still hear shouting coming from the hall.

‘Very important that I hide. Think crick. There always place to hide. In 1940s I once hid inside dead donkey for three hours. Save my rife. Think.’

‘If you’re the hide and seek expert, then you think,’ says Foz, who feels his generosity has been taken for granted. ‘I suggest you try the toilet next door.’

‘The coffin!’ says Ren. ‘You can hide in Foz’s coffin.’

‘His coffin? Prease exprain.’

‘The cricket bag. We call them coffins because they’re long. Let’s take the gear out.’

There’s not much gear in the bag, just a bat, pads, gloves and a box (a box is a protector for the gentleman’s area).

‘It too small,’ says the politician.

‘Squeeze up. Pretend you’re inside the dead donkey again,’ says Ren. ‘Time to save your life again.’

The politician steps into the bag, and bends down. Ren grabs him and pushes him all the way down, and then does the bag up around him. It’s a tight fit, but he gets it closed.

Ren and Foz sit down, Ren on the armchair. The trapped guard shouts out for help again.

‘I suppose we should try again with this guy,’ says Foz.

‘In a minute, says Ren, brushing the plaster dust from his hair. ‘Did no-one come to your office to tell you that you couldn’t come in this evening?’

‘No,’ says Foz. ‘I did hear that something was going on a while ago, but I thought I’d just keep quiet until it was over. Got to get this paper finished, like I said, and I don’t have good internet at home. What’s the event?’

‘It’s the Murnesian state visit. Don’t you pay attention?’

‘Got more important things to think about. But I thought that guy in the bag looks familiar. He looks like Ding Pingajing.’

‘I thought he looked familiar too,’ says Ren. ‘Don’t think it’s Ding though.’

They hear shouts from outside in the corridor. Ren grabs a book from the desk and starts reading it.

‘During the Protestant reformation,’ he says, ‘a lot of Benedictine monasteries were closed. In your opinion, Dr McKendry, was this because the monastic vow was seen as…’

The door is wrenched open, and some masked protesters clothed in black rush in. They’re momentarily taken aback by the scene in the office, but they quickly grab the security guard and yank him out of the vent. They take a look at his face. Deciding that he isn’t one of their targets, they give him a half-hearted punch in the face, and turn to go.

Ren is tempted to draw their attention to the bag. The protesters don’t seem to be murderous. If that really is Ding in there, perhaps he deserves a beating. But that would achieve nothing, except to make himself a personal enemy of Ding. The protesters rush out again.

‘Are you going to be playing in the Humanities versus Sciences match this Sunday?’ says Foz.

‘I wasn’t planning to,’ says Ren. ‘But maybe I’ll get along. We’ll see.’

‘I hear Sciences are going to have their new fast bowler from Biology playing this time. He’s marvellous to watch. Not so much fun playing against him. Really gets the ball to zip about.’

‘What was his name again? Gribben? Cribbens? Gibbon? Gibson?’

‘Can’t remember. He’s played for Oxford against some county sides. Too good for our league, really.’

The security guard gives them a disbelieving look, and sneaks outside for a peek. Three minutes of cricket and history conversation later, he comes back.

‘All crear,’ he says, unzipping the bag. The delitescent Murnesian removes himself from the holdall. He seems a little ginger, and rubs his bones, but says, ‘That was a piece of the pie compared to hiding in dead donkey. Bring back many memories of dark times.’ He turns to Ren and Foz. ‘You show sang-froide under pressure.’

‘Yes, time is ticking away,’ says Foz, getting the wrong end of the stick, ‘but I think there’s still enough time left tonight to do a decent job.’

‘He means sang-froid in the face of the riot,’ says Ren.

‘Oh, that,’ says Foz.

‘Cruel as crucumber,’ says the bagman, who is looking at Ren, and ignoring Foz. ‘What your name?’ he says.

‘My name is Dr Ren Christopher.’

‘Thank you Dr Christopher,’ says the Murnesian, who bows. ‘You save my rife.’

‘Nothing to it,’ says Ren. ‘Anyway, I don’t think the protesters were out to kill anyone.’

‘Don’t be deceived, they deadly dark enemies of humanity who kill mirrions if they have chance. That why we have to riquidate them. Orr of them. We must not ruse.’

‘It’s so wonderful to hear of your cultural activities, which provide a fresh perspective on our squabbles here in England,’ says Ren.

‘Ret’s go,’ says the guard, pulling his fellow Murnesian out the door.

‘Do you think I’ll be able to stay here for the rest of the evening?’ says Foz. ‘I really do want to get this paper finished tonight.’

‘I don’t think that’s going to be possible. You’d better save your work, grab your books, and get out of here before the police shut it down for days.’

Now that the danger has passed, thoughts of George’s fate bubble to the surface.

‘They killed George.’

‘Who? You mean old George Bagnall? Who killed him?’

‘The security guards. He was having a heart attack, and they thought he was going to assassinate Ding. So they shot him.

‘Oh my. That’s what those bangs were. I thought they were fireworks.’

‘It happened right in front of my eyes. I think I’m in some sort of a state of shock. Delayed shock. I don’t feel right. My body feels all weird. My head’s starting to feel weird too.’

‘Did anyone else get killed?’

‘Don’t know. Anyway, get out quick.’

Ren turns to leave.

‘What are you going to do?’ says Foz.

‘I’m going to see if I can find out what’s happened to George.’

‘Sure. Quite right. Well, hopefully see you on Sunday,’ says Foz. ‘And if you do come, don’t forget your gloves this time.’

‘Foz, in order for you to be there on Sunday you’ll need to leave this office soon, okay?’

‘Sure,’ says Foz reluctantly, looking at his screen in a worried way. If he can just finish this section…

The Brexit ballot box fightback starts here

Hector Drummond Posted on by

If you have a chance to vote in your local council’s elections on Thursday then do it. The second of May is the start date of the movement to wipe the Conservatives off the face of the Earth via the ballot box. If there is a UKIP candidate, vote for them. If there is anyone else who looks vaguely pro-Brexit, vote for them. Otherwise spoil your ballot and write ‘WTO Brexit Now’ or whatever you feel is appropriate.

Ignore all the special pleading from Conservative MPs about how the Brexit betrayal is not the poor local councillors’ fault. They’ve all been a part of a very long leftward drift, and for that the party must be removed as an option for the right. They hung around even when Cameron turned the Conservatives into a New Labour party, so they’re not due a break. The message must be sent, not just to Theresa May, but to them as well.

You might say, ‘But I don’t want Labour to control my council’. This brings up the other point I wanted to make. In my experience most Conservative councillors are little different to Labour or LibDem councillors. I think this applies to most of the UK. It doesn’t make that much difference whether the Tories or Labour have control, councils still waste our money, interfere with our freedoms, and fail to deliver on basic services like weekly bin collections. That’s why the “Bins, not Brexit” slogan is so woeful: what do the Tories actually offer that is different when it comes to bin collections? Nothing. They”re exactly the same as Labour. (And of course councils only have limited power to change anything anyway.)

So there’s no good reason to vote for the Conservatives tomorrow anyway, even ignoring the bigger picture, and every reason to remove them from the local council scene as well as the national level.

Update: The Labour Party vote is fragile too, but they’re likely to do well on Thursday, purely because of the Conservative meltdown. I don’t know if they’ll be fooled by this into thinking their vote is strong. It isn’t — there’s a great many people thinking of walking away from Labour too. In fact, they have two groups thinking of leaving, the traditional working class who are Leavers, and the middle-class centrists who don’t like too much Marxism and anti-Semitism, and who want more commitment to Remain.

Update 2: It’s important to vote, even if it’s to spoil your ballot. Not voting is useless it sends no message. Councils always have low turnouts, so if you don’t turn up they’ll just take it you’re another apathetic slob who’ll let them do what they want.

Quote of the Day

Hector Drummond Posted on by

Once again Jim in the comments saves me some time by expressing my own thoughts well:

UKIP’s day will come, strangely enough Brexit is not its real issue now. The Brexit party is what is required to get Brexit, it’s a one issue party, it won’t survive that campaign regardless of whether we leave or not. The people involved are too disparate in their political views to be able to form a coherent manifesto that they could all sign up to in a post-Brexit world, and that would appeal to people currently disenfranchised by the major parties. And rightly so – the people who voted for Brexit were from all parts of the political spectrum so a Brexit party needs to represent them all.

 

UKippers need to vote for the Brexit Party for now, safe in the knowledge that it won’t last, and that the issues they are espousing, especially the Islamic ones, are not going away any time soon. They will be abused and attacked and besmirched constantly but events dear boy events will eventually mean we need a party who will stand up to the Islamists. Rather in a ‘Churchill crying in the wilderness at the Nazi threat’ style, UKIP need to keep the faith through the hard times, they will be needed. Indeed I suspect when they are needed people will be flocking to them as saviours, rather than calling them names.

 

But we are not at that time now, and Farage has rightly called it that to get Brexit he can’t get involved in another fight as well.

UKIP have been done up like kippers

Hector Drummond Posted on by

In case anyone is wondering, I’m still a supporter of UKIP. The reason I don’t mention them much, while I mention Farage a lot now, is simply because UKIP have disappeared off the radar, while the Brexit Party have taken the country by storm.

This is very unfair on UKIP, who have been stitched up by the media just because they dare to question the wisdom of so much Islamic immigration. Farage has been, you will notice, very careful not to be too anti-PC, because he knows that the media – even the supposedly right-wing media – can try to run him out of town if he so much as mentions the word ‘Muslim’. Farage has always been more mainstream that the media portrays him as, and he’s even more mainstream now. He realises that has to be to get anywhere. UKIP, to their credit, have been more honest, and look where it got them.

Yes, I know UKIP have done themselves no favours with their comical in-fighting, and their fallout with Farage (and I realise that they have a legitimate beef with Farage, who has long been accused by many people of screwing over anyone in UKIP who was a threat to his power). But all political parties are like that. UKIP isn’t that different, so that doesn’t explain why they’ve become invisible.

And I know that the quality of their candidates was sometimes terrible – God knows some of the local UKIP candidates in my area over the years were an embarrassment. (It’s noticeable that the Brexit Party, so far at least, has worked hard to get presentable people on board.)

But the real reason UKIP are polling so low when Brexit is such a major issue is because the media and the Establishment have done their best to bury the party, especially since Tommy Robinson, who they fear, and lie about constantly, became involved.

So I do apologise to any UKIP supporters who may be reading this, there’s nothing I can do about what has happened, but as it has happened the only thing that can currently be done is to vote Brexit Party for now, and keep fighting. As I said the other day, British voters usually vote for the party on their side that they know everyone else on their side is going to vote for, in order that the vote on that side is not split, and that means Brexiteers, conservatives and libertarians must now vote Brexit Party in order to destroy the Conservatives.

Update: For the local elections tomorrow, though, if you’re voting, vote UKIP where you can (I’m assuming the Brexit Party is not running any local council candidates).

 

The new Brexit court case

Hector Drummond Posted on by

I should mention the remarkable court case that is currently happening. Robin Tilbrook, a lawyer and the founding member of the English Democrats, has taken the government to court arguing that Theresa May’s Brexit extension was illegitimate, and so we have in fact already left the EU.

Tilbrook’s arguments are very much like the ones I have been making recently. May had no authority to extend the Brexit process by simply signing a letter. Such an extension should require a full Act of Parliament; in the absence of that Theresa May’s signature on any agreement with the EU has no force.

This especially applies after the Gina Miller ruling that the PM has no authority to sign an exit deal with the EU on her own — an Act of Parliament is required to validate that.

Unfortunately, while I totally support the court case and the reasoning behind it (as does Bill Cash), and wish it the very best, I’m pretty pessimistic about its prospects. This is because in this sort of case the judges can pretty easily wriggle around to get the result they want. It’s not a simple cut-and-dried situation (actually, even with those we’ve seen that judges are pretty brazen about just ignoring the law). There’s so much interpretation involved that the hook can easily be wriggled away from. And the British judiciary these days is, like every other part of the Establishment, full of left-leaning Remainers. And not just passive Remainers, but active Remainers, looking for any and every opportunity to stop Brexit.

And it knows which side its bread is buttered on as well. It’s a long time since the judges had any real independence from the government and the executive. They know who their real paymasters are. Any judge taking a stand against the government only does so from the left, and only because they know they have the rest of the Establishment behind them.

So I think the chances of this case succeeding are pretty remote. An excuse will be found to throw it out.

Even if by some miracle it gets a fair judge, or judges, who uphold it, it will most likely by appealed, and you can guarantee that at the next level it will be squashed. One miracle is barely possible; the chances of getting two, or three, in a row are astronomically low.

Still, the case was definitely worth fighting. If you don’t fight you’re guaranteed to lose. But it’s still likely to be the ballot box where Brexit is finally won. (Let’s hope so anyway, because after that it will be the streets.)

The Tory brand is no longer worth fighting over

Hector Drummond Posted on by

It wasn’t that long ago that I was hoping for a split in the Conservative Party. I hoped that the Brexiteer/right-wing part of it would win, and as a result of that a lot of the soft centrists squishes would leave. (Part of the appeal of Boris Johnson as a new leader was that the squishes were threatening to quit the party if he became leader – which is exactly what we wanted.)

I thought this mainly because there were some important advantages in taking over the Conservative party, rather than forming a new party. Some of these were:

(1) The Conservative Party brand was worth at least 25-30 points regardless of who was behind the wheel.

(2) The Conservative Party has money.

(3) The Party has a huge network of dedicated and knowledgeable activists.

(4) The Party also has large databases of relevant information.

Splitting off to form a new party was therefore going to put you way off the pace, because of all these hard-won advantages the Party structure gives to those who control it. But now those hard-won advantages have been flushed down the toilet within a few months. The party has become so toxic so quickly that all those former advantages no longer apply:

(1) The Conservative name is now mud, and is sinking fast. Having ‘Conservative’ after your name is now likely to mean that you cannot win any sort of election.

(2) The Conservative Party money has completely dried up. No-one is donating anything to them any more. The Brexit Party, on the other hand, has money flooding into it in great washes.

(3) The Conservative Party’s activists are basically going on strike. Most of them will no longer campaign for the party. Many of them will quit and join the Brexit Party.

(4) The Party still has the large databases, but a lot of that information is going to become quickly outdated. Also, I expect a lot of it will find its way to the Brexit Party.

So rather than the Conservative Party being a brand worth taking over – this is how Cameron and Osborne talked – it’s now a brand that one should want to ditch as quickly as possible. It’s fast becoming the Betamax of the modern age. No, worse than that. It’s like land that’s been discovered to be filled with toxic chemicals, and lingering radiation, and Japanese knotweed. No-one wants it any more. The door has been opened for a new non-PC, pro-Brexit party, and Farage has strolled through.

Of course, things could change if the Brexiteers do eventually get control of the Party. Perhaps the activists will come back. Perhaps the money will start coming in again. But I doubt enough of that would happen to save it. The point of no return has been reached, and Conservatives are now – finally – after all these years of being the great survivors, looking like the Woolworths of politics.

The Biscuit Factory Vol. I: Days of Wine and Cheese serialisation. Part 65

Hector Drummond Posted on by

2001-02

Semester 2

Week 9

Wednesday (continued)

 

They go into the Terminal Building and head for Bear Hall, the largest and grandest hall on campus, used only for the finest occasions (and certainly not for student graduations). It had seemed unlikely to Ren that he and George really would be on the front row, but when they get into Bear Hall they see that the seating has been laid out in a semi-circular, concave, arrangement, so there’s quite a few seats on the front row. And there they are – two seats with their names on them on the left end of the front row. Grant, meanwhile, has the honour of being seated on the dais along with the Murnesian and Grayvington bigwigs. George collapses into his chair like he’s just completed a marathon, puffing heavily and looking a little green.

Bear Hall was originally designed in a mock-Renaissance style, with vaulted arches, but before completion a new architect took over, and the University administration of the day decided that a medieval theme would be more suitable, so some hasty changes were made to create an impression of the middle ages, and the hall was re-christened with its current name. One wall, the one furthest away from Ren and George, is full of stained-glass windows, whose mix of themes infuriates the University historians, but which do look very impressive to the less tutored eye.

Ren notices George’s dandruff. It’s all over his shoulders. It’s so bad Ren can even see it on George’s hair. Some of the flakes are rather large. And then he notices that everyone else has large flakes of dandruff all over them. He looks up at the ceiling. It’s not dandruff. It’s bits of the ceiling falling down.

The ceiling, as the University well knows, is in bad shape. That’s one of the reasons why the hall isn’t used very much. A full, noisy, humid house will occasionally cause bits of the ceiling to fall off, although it’s never been this bad. It looks like the audience at a dandruff convention eagerly awaiting the announcement of a new miracle cure. The University keeps putting off the repair of the ceiling because the whole ceiling needs to be done with just the right sort of repair methods, and the ceiling can’t be repaired without re-doing a lot of the Hall, and all of that is going to be expensive (although not as expensive, some people have noted, as a lot of the other things that Raven likes to spend the University’s money on). But after today, Raven has been assuring people, the University will easily be able to afford to get the ceiling fixed.

After the audience has settled Raven calls for quiet. This allows everyone to get a good listen to the crowd baying outside. The Murnesians and their security guards look uneasy. Do these complacent Westerners really know how to handle an angry mob? Even Raven looks a little worried as he nervously adjusts his glasses. Ren, on the other hand, is content to stare at a blonde who is seated up on the dais near Raven. This must be Raven’s wife. He’s never seen Raven’s wife before, but it’s got to be her. Even the salacious gossip doesn’t do her justice. She’s stunning, and her languid movements leave Ren mesmerised. How on earth did Raven snag her?

Raven clears his throat.

‘I’m proud to welcome to our University one of the world’s great leaders, Ding Pingajing,’ says Raven.

Pingajing stands up to receive the lukewarm applause of the crowd. He bows.

‘Murnesia, as we all know,’ continues Raven, ‘is one of the world’s most ancient countries, a country full of wisdom that goes back millenia, and a wisdom that continues to be displayed every day in the modern age. We still have much to learn from this wonderful, vibrant land, which sets us examples in so many ways.’

George lets out an awful groan. It sounds to Ren like he is trying to suppress a groan of pain, but it sounds to the audience like he’s trying to suppress a groan of anger. There’s muttering in the crowd. Ren can see Robot making neck-cutting motions to George with his hand. He notices that the Murnesian guards have also seen Robot do this. They’re looking at Robot and George suspiciously. What does a neck-cutting motion indicate in Murnesia? Ren smiles at the agents to try to reassure them, but this seems to make them even more suspicious.

Raven pauses. His thunder is in danger of being stolen. He puffs himself up, puts on his most important look, and takes a deep breath: ‘This is a historic day. It is perhaps the most historic day in history. It is the day when East and West finally come together in peace and harmony, through the means of a healing bridge built by scholarship. I am proud to announce that Grayvington University will build and manage the historic Oxbridge University in Rankpo.’

Raven pauses. The audience has gone deathly quiet, which provides a dramatic backdrop to the sounds of the crowd outside, who seem to have gotten louder, and – as far as one can tell from the inside – even angrier. The Murnesian guards look to have become even more jittery than before. Raven’s wife, Dymphia, however, has closed her eyes and is rolling her head around as though she’s in internal ecstasy, and Ren can’t take his eyes off her.

Raven makes a little movement with his hands, and a few people cotton on that this is supposed to be the moment for rapturous applause. The clapping takes a while to get started, and as a result never really reaches the thunderous level Raven anticipated. The Murnesians look angry, like they’ve been disrespected. Ren has a look behind him to see what the faces on the audience look like. While he does this, and while the clapping is dying out, George gets to his feet unsteadily, with one clawed hand out in front of him, and staggers over towards the Murnesians on the dais. He lets out an angry shout, which probably sounds to the Murnesians as though he is remembering the relatives and friends who were murdered by the Kum Kwat regime, taken from their beds at 4am into the labour camps, never to be seen again. The Murnesian security guards draw their guns. Even the British agents put their hand into their jackets.

‘George, no,’ shouts Ren, who has turned back around to see what is happening. ‘Stay away from there.’

Then George, with a face that looks like he knows that death is near, emits an agonised wail, while his shaking index finger seems to be pointing at Ding. As he howls, Ren shouts out that he’s having a heart attack, but George’s wailing drowns out his exact words. George reaches into the inside of his jacket to hold his heart. Or his oesophagus, whichever it is. Ren gets up to run to him, but it’s too late. Milliseconds after George’s hand goes into his jacket pocket three bullets are fired at him, and he’s killed instantly.

The hall erupts like Ginnungagap has arrived. Guards fire bullets into the ceiling, but this just shoots out some of the lights and causes large sections of the fragile ceiling to fall onto the crowd, sending up clouds of plaster dust, reducing visibility, making things even worse. The screaming and shouting crowd frantically tries to run through the dust for the exit, but this results in half of them ending up on the floor, or getting knocked over into the chairs. More plaster falls, and more dust is thrown up. Some people are completely caked in white plaster. Those who do make it to the exit find that their way is blocked by the security guards from outside, most of whom have run into the building and to the hall to see what has happened.

The recent 9/11 terrorist attacks have made people jumpy, so it’s no surprise that serious panic sets in when the sounds of crashing glass are heard in the room. The stained-glass windows on the side of the hall are being smashed through, and protesters wearing heavy gloves and batons start climbing in over the broken glass. Ren tries to get to George’s body, but he can’t see much through the haze of dust and the frightened crowds, and then he is knocked to the floor by the swirl, and is forced to crawl around just to avoid being trampled to death.

The Murnesian guards, sensing that they’ve killed an innocent man, and aware that they really don’t want any more deaths on British soil, are reluctant to fire directly at the invading protesters, and they don’t want to fire at the ceiling again, so they aim their guns off to the side, and shoot again to bring order. This does nothing but create even more terror in the audience, especially as some of the bullets have ended up going through the top parts of the stained-glass windows, resulting in glass falling onto the crowd from on high. The protesters and the guards start swinging clubs at each other. Ren can hear a mix of dull thuds, and the sound of bones cracking. He’s going to get caught up in the middle of this. The hired security guards from outside can’t get in, as they’re caught between the audience trying to get out of the hall, and other protesters who are trying to get in.

The Collected Works of Johnny Mercer

Hector Drummond Posted on by

Available now in premium leather-bound hardback is the collection that all conservatives will be displaying on their coffee table this year: The Collected Works of Johnny Mercer.

Finally the sustained insight of the Conservative Party’s greatest and most prolific living philosopher has been brought together in one large volume. Open the page at random and the pearls of wisdom pour forth — consider, for example, p. 173:

There’s an issue which surpasses BREXIT in this party, something that makes people like me want to be part of something bigger than ourselves, which most of us still hold a torch for when this process is over, that we will turbo charge post March 19. That thing is social justice

He reveals his philosophical heroes:

I did admire Tony Blair.

And the timeless music that defines Western civilization:

I quite like things like Jay Z and Kanye West

Who inspires him with their political thinking?

The best political interview I’ve read. Reflects much of my feelings, and that of many of ‘our time’. I hope she never quits.

Her name: Jess Phillips.

He is searingly honest about his political opponents:

There’s something deeply pathetic about Nigel Farage appearing on a beach the morning after some poor migrants have been rescued, and then running through a market in Kent shouting ‘let’s take back control!’ From whom, Nigel? What am I missing?

 

Please don’t give me this rubbish about being a true patriot and ‘believing in Britain’, just because you want to leave the EU. Am I not because I don’t? I’m proud of our country. We have huge challenges, but the truth is stronger than the rhetoric. More people lifted out of poverty; social mobility increased; more funding for public services; greater life expectancy and public health; better security services; better at looking after people; better at anti-discrimination; fairer society.

He lifts the lid on the inside story on how TV advertising really works after appearing in his notorious Dove shower gel ad:

They [Dove’s marketing agency] phoned us up because they wanted people who weren’t models or signed-up to an agency.

 

“When they asked me, I thought ‘Why not, it will be a laugh.’ It was really fun. They sent me and the girls to London for three days.

 

“Unfortunately, I think it might be the first in a series of adverts but we’ll have to wait and see. Hopefully it will be forgotten about quickly.

Or consider the poetry of Johnny in contemplative mood:

when you go home from here on a Thursday and go for a run across Dartmoor or whatever, and you’re stripped to your core being, I mean, yeah, you realise it’s a shit show.

Nothing is held back:

JOHNNY MERCER: Brexit is an enormously difficult thing and I actually think every government needs someone like Philip Hammond in the Treasury

 

NP: A team does require leaders though doesn’t it?

 

JOHNNY MERCER: A team does require leaders and Theresa is doing a good job.

Johnny isn’t afraid of a bold call, as p. 550 illustrates:

No brainer. Let’s not take our time on this. @TomTugendhat absolutely right.

He writes with searing honesty about his youthful OCD:

You get more and more fatigued, then your resilience to your compulsions just dropped off. [He admits he was a] pretty disturbed young man… some of my behaviour was extraordinarily weird.

Like all true philosophers, Johnny makes no pretence to knowledge he doesn’t have:

Had no idea who you were.

In fact, his claims to knowledge are refreshingly humble:

I’ve never heard of, never met, or had anything to do with them.

And who could forget this one:

I’ll give you one chance at honesty. Did you insinuate my wife was a prostitute on the Plymouth Herald comments section?

There’s even a sealed section which is only to be opened with a lawyer present.

With evocative section titles such as ‘I Was In the Army, You Know’, ‘This Guy’, and ‘When I’m a Whip I’ll Show Them How You Really Do a Shakedown’, and a generous selection from the many, many publicity photographs Johnny has done in a remarkably short period of time, every conservative intellectual is going to pride themselves on having this book in their collection.

Also available for hire at only £350 an hour.

Update: The really sad thing is that Mercer is probably one of the better people in the Conservative party. There are many, many Tory MPs worse than him.

Zombie party confirms it is dead

Hector Drummond Posted on by

After this week’s failure of the Conservatives’ 1922 committee to change the leadership challenge rules, the ‘flipping point’ I wrote about the other day has now been reached, I think. The Tories are finally about to collapse. Only most of their MPs don’t know it yet.

If the Tory Brexiteer MPs want to survive and bring about Brexit, they need to resign en masse and join The Brexit Party. Now. No more “Maybe if we apply enough pressure things will change…”. They won’t. Just leave now. Your current party is dead in the water.

My feeling, however, is that most or all of them won’t do any such thing. Maybe Steve Baker, but probably not even him. Because as good as some of the Brexiteers are, they’re Tories, and kicking the can down the road is ingrained in them all.

Sebastian Payne from the Financial Times tweets:

Sir Graham Brady told Theresa May on Tuesday that the present situation is unsustainable. Will he now demand her exit date, in exchange for avoiding leadership rule changes and a messy challenge?

Why would she pay any attention to that? They’ve already revealed that they have no spine.

1922 executive committee vote on rule change was 9/7 against – with Sir Graham Brady and @KemiBadenoch abstaining.

In times past we’d want to know who the nine were. But now, who cares? They’re all finished.

Update: The Tory Brexiteer MPs should, after joining the Brexit Party, and allowing some time for the BP to get some Westminster candidates together, trigger an early election. They can also threaten Theresa May with this beforehand to force a WTO exit.

But, of course, they won’t, because they’re all mouth and no trousers.

The flipping point

Hector Drummond Posted on by

For a long time now now various pundits have been predicting the death of the Conservatives and Labour, or at least the death of the Conservatives. Years of PC policies and sucking up to the Guardian have alienated most of the Conservative voters, so it seemed a reasonable prediction. Alternative right-wing parties, and alternative left-wing parties, would spring up and gradually take the place of the dinosaur parties, just like is happening in Europe.

But it never happened. The Conservatives and Labour continued to dominate elections, while the alternative parties went nowhere, even when those alternative parties had policies more in line with what a great many voters want.

This fact is usually attributed to the British people being more suspicious of fringe politics than the Europeans. There is some truth in that, but it’s hardly the whole story. Another big reason, I think, is that British voters don’t want to vote for parties that don’t have a chance of winning, because they don’t want to let the parties on the other side of politics get in by splitting the vote on their own side. That’s why so many people have for decades voted for the main parties with a peg on their nose.

No-one has happily voted for the Conservatives for a long time. Anyone who has voted for them has done so unwillingly, as a matter of duty, to keep Labour out. They haven’t voted for UKIP instead, partly because they’ve been told so many times that UKIP are a bunch fruitcakes, yes, but also because they know most other right-wingers are going to vote Conservative, so a vote for UKIP just makes it more likely that Labour will win. They vote for the party that’s in with the main chance.

So that’s one of the principal reasons why the main parties’ vote share has been so robust over the last twenty-odd years, despite the hollowing-out of genuine support for them. British people vote for the party on their side that most others like them are going to vote for, in order not to split their vote. That’s why it’s been hard for alternatives to make inroads. That’s why the hard left voted for New Labour, rather than the Socialist Workers’ Party. That’s why Blairities still vote for Corbyn’s Labour, even though the LibDems more closely represent their politics. And it’s why conservatives have kept voting for the Conservative Party. It’s because the Conservatives have been the only right-wing party with a chance of winning.

But that has resulted in the Conservative Party having a false idea about the support they have. They look at the fact that they got over 40% of the vote at the last general election, and they think they’re doing well. But that vote share doesn’t get across how fragile their support is, and how many people are despairing of them, and desperate for an alternative that has a chance of winning.

What can happen in these sort of scenarios is a sudden flip. You can get a mass of voters on one part of the political map collectively deciding, en masse, that they’ve had enough of the party they all used to vote for, and most of them decide to shift to an alternative. They do this because they all come to realise, at around the same time, not only that they’ve had enough, but that everyone else on their side has had enough too, and then they realise that now it’s worth voting for the alternative because everyone else is going to as well, and the alternative is now the party that is in with a chance of winning. In that situation it’s voting for the old party that risks splitting the vote. So after years of the vote for the old party holding up, overnight it disappears. There was no gradual tailing off. Rather, one day it was there, and the next day it’s gone.

This is what happened to the Progressive Conservative Party in Canada at the elections (who lost all but two of their 156 Federal seats), and it’s what may happen to the Conservatives in the UK. Once the flipping point has been reached, and the Conservatives are no longer considered the party with the main chance (or if it’s thought that the Conservatives are not worth voting for even if they are the main chance), then their fragile vote share could collapse quicker than a house of cards.

That tipping point has perhaps already been reached. The Brexit Party is getting astonishing support for a party that has only just been formed, and has hardly any policies or candidates yet. That tells us that the dissatisfaction with the Tories is so intense that it’s not going to take very much more for their side of the see-saw to suddenly sink to the ground. Certainly the longer the Tories take to get rid of May, the more chance there is that the flipping point will be reached. They don’t seem to understand that. Talk of May going in mid-June is dangerously naive.

Update: But of course it may not happen like all that. It may be that enough Tory holdouts remain, and the vote just ends up being split. And of course the Brexit party’s candidates may turn out to be useless squishy Establishment types who are, Brexit apart, no different to the Tories, and the same old problems will arise once more.

Update 2: See also my later post ‘Zombie Party Confirms It Is Dead‘.

Andrew Mitchell keeps the failing narrative going

Hector Drummond Posted on by

Conservative MP Andrew Mitchell writes a piece in the Telegraph which reveals why his party are a bunch of devious scumbags who must be removed from power. The tactic is the usual one (Hague also does it): pretend to agree that it’s terrible that Brexit was delayed and to stress that the Tory Party’s future is at risk if it isn’t delivered, so as get the Leave-voting readers nodding their heads, and then slip in, as though it’s the obvious thing, that to avoid this we have to pass May’s Withdrawal Agreement:

This agony will continue unless and until we pass the Withdrawal Agreement – the necessary step to ensuring we leave the EU.

But say nothing at all about whether the WA really is Brexit. Quickly move on to other matters. Shake your head sadly and say that, yes, Theresa May, hasn’t done a perfect job, but she’s done her best:

Meanwhile, the knives are sharpened for a Prime Minister who, whatever her faults (and I did not support her leadership bid as I believed we needed someone who had voted to leave) has bravely and with stubborn persistence fought against the odds and in impossible circumstances to do her duty.

When are the Tories going to realise that no-one is buying this pretence that Theresa May is just a dutiful public servant in a difficult situation who is plugging away as best she can? A few strategic pieces like this in the Telegraph don’t cut it any more.

And he really thinks this will work:

What will the image of another tearful but brave female Prime Minister being forced out of Downing Street pursued by a band of grey-haired, grey-suited Tory men do to our party?

I can tell you what that image will do to your party. It will revitalize it, and give it another lease of life. Your party members, your voters, your ex-voters, and most of the country will be cheering in the streets at the news.

It gets even more ridiculous:

I am also so sad to have been in party meetings, where, at the most senior level the Speaker has been denounced as “biased” and colleagues have been exhorted to undermine him. What has happened to the old-fashioned British respect for the referee?

Not even the British have respect for a referee who is so clearly biased to one side, and who applies the rules when and how it suits him. If Mitchell thinks we’re going to be taken in by this then he’d better get ready (once again) for a life outside politics.

Another little tactic he uses to get the right-wingers onside right from the start was to begin by talking about Thatcher and sympathize with her demise, even though that has little to do with the current issue.

I was PPS to Margaret Thatcher’s closest friend and ally John Wakeham when our party ejected her from office. I learned then that when a party focuses on itself and not on the country, it loses both respect and trust.

This is nothing but a rhetorical trick. It’s like when Labour centrists are talking to the hard left and they start off by invoking some sainted historical leftist to get the audience onside to start with.

I think Mitchell had better get ready to join the plebs.

Live each day as if it’s your last

Hector Drummond Posted on by

Well, what a day. So much has happened. In the morning – this was yesterday morning now – I went to a Spiritual Well-Being seminar and the guru there said to live each day as if it was your last. I took that to heart.

And now here I am 16 hours later. I’ve ransacked my life savings and spent the lot, and given away my house to tramps. I’ve quit my job and set my office on fire and sent a mass e-mail to everyone in my field telling them they can burn in hell. I’ve killed the people across the road and dumped their bodies in a tar pit. The left side of my body is frozen from all the drugs I’ve taken, and I now see everything in a dim orange and green. I’ve sent explosive devices to all the leading politicians, and my first mother-in-law, without worrying about fingerprints, and I’ve already crashed the Porsche I bought.

I tried sniffing the flowers in the park to bring a more positive and wholesome element to the day, but after a while the park keepers turned up and chased me off. Then I sobbed for half-an-hour because I figured that’s what you’d do if it was your last day alive. After that I drove like a maniac to my kids’ school and pulled them out of class and hugged them tight saying ‘Daddy’s going to go to sleep forever soon’, before the head teacher came and reminded me that I wasn’t supposed to have any contact with them.

I decided to cut down the neighbours’ tree that had always blocked my view, and the tramps were totally on my side over that. Then I hit the dog over the head with a shovel because it won’t be able to cope without me, but as I was burying it it came to life and and savaged my arm and then ran off. I thought I should get rabies shots but then I thought what’s the point as it’s my last day? I can see tendons and bones but I’m not worrying about that right now because of the drugs.

The tramps and I tried to turn the grave into a swimming hole instead, but I must admit we gave up rather early as it’s a bigger job that we thought, although I don’t think they really have the excuse I have for packing it in. They might not have long left, especially the one with the weeping eye who keeps vomiting, but it’s not their last day alive, is it?

The worst thing, though – the absolute worst thing – is that I’ve got to do it all again today. Not sure I can cope with another day like that.

Should maybe ask for my money back from the seminar people.