The political situation is extraordinary. For the opinion polls to move by as much as 14 points overnight in favour of one party is unprecedented. And for it to happen in favour of the Liberal Democrats is a delight It reveals just how many people would prefer not to have to vote for David Cameron as an alternative to Gordon Brown, and just how much latent support there is for our party that comes to light only when we get the rare opportunity to be treated as equals.
I am revelling in having been a Clegg-for-Leader advocate from the day he told me that he wanted to stand for the House of Commons (after I had failed to dissuade him from leaving Brussels that is). As I now occupy Nick’s former office in the European Parliament maybe I should try to raise party funds by charging visitors to see it.
The enthusiasm should be savoured and bottled for it will not last. I have no doubt that Nick will do well in the next debates but expectations of him are now completely unreasonable. If he defends the principles and policies of the party then he will inevitably lose some support – they would not be principles worth fighting for if our opponents agreed with them.
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Hi Chris, and team.
Well is occupying NC's former office your claim to fame?
Mine is that I signed Nick up to our Local Lib dem Party here in Bxl (when I was Chair), in 1997, because he wanted to stand for the European Elections in 1999.
And I did. And he did. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Best,
Debs
Hi Chris and Team,
With so much blogging and blabbing, whatever happened to simple satire?
Maybe these ditties I've penned will strike a chord with the voters...
WITHERING HEIGHTS
Oh the Grand New Duke of Tories,
He won a commanding lead,
We marched him up to the top of the polls,
But we marched him down again,
And when he were up, we were down,
And when he were down, we were up,
And when he was only half way up,
We chose neither him nor Brown.
A ROCHDALE LAMENT
In Rochdale's fair city,
Where the votes are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on New Labour of Old,
As Old Labour they followed,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Labour, Old Labour, alive, alive, oh!"
"Alive, alive, oh,
Alive, alive, oh",
Crying, "Labour, Old Labour, alive, alive, oh!"
She was a grand-mother,
And Old Labour no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before,
As Old Labour they followed,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Labour, Old Labour, alive, alive, oh!"
"Alive, alive, oh,
Alive, alive, oh",
Crying, "Labour, Old Labour, alive, alive, oh!"
Then...
In Rochdale's fair city,
Where the votes are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Gordon alone,
As he drove off in his limo
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "She's a bigot, a voter, alive, alive, oh!"
"A lie, a lie, oh,
A lie, a lie, oh",
Crying, "She's a bigot, a voter, alive, alive, oh!"
In Rochdale's fair city,
No voters show'd pity,
And sent Gordon packing to rest in his home,
The only bigot is he, in control of the free,
Crying, "You're all bigots, all you voters, all bigots, n'er me!"
Are all the poets hiding in Outer Monglia for thIS election? Seems so...
WITHERING HEIGHTS
Oh the Grand New Duke of Tories,
He won a commanding lead,
We marched him up to the top of the polls,
But we marched him down again,
And when he were up, we were down,
And when he were down, we were up,
And when he was only half way up,
We chose neither him nor Brown.
A ROCHDALE LAMENT
In Rochdale's fair city,
Where the votes are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on New Labour of Old,
As Old Labour they followed,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Labour, Old Labour, alive, alive, oh!"
"Alive, alive, oh,
Alive, alive, oh",
Crying, "Labour, Old Labour, alive, alive, oh!"
She was a grand-mother,
And Old Labour no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before,
As Old Labour they followed,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Labour, Old Labour, alive, alive, oh!"
"Alive, alive, oh,
Alive, alive, oh",
Crying, "Labour, Old Labour, alive, alive, oh!"
Then...
In Rochdale's fair city,
Where the votes are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Gordon alone,
As he drove off in his limo
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "She's a bigot, a voter, alive, alive, oh!"
"A lie, a lie, oh,
A lie, a lie, oh",
Crying, "She's a bigot, a voter, alive, alive, oh!"
In Rochdale's fair city,
No voters show'd pity,
And sent Gordon packing to rest in his home,
The only bigot is he, in control of the free,
Crying, "You're all bigots, all you voters, all bigots, n'er me!"
Post a Comment