It’s time to reap the rewards of all that snowballing momentum behind your electrifying, grassroots social movement, Jezza.
We’re all rooting for you, buddy. I am fully confident that you’re going to save us from another five years of Tory domination. Thatcher royally fucked us up our collective British arsehole in the space of ten years. Give this lot half that time and we may never get over the Brussels-sized haemorrhoid known as Brexit.
Alright, fair, it’s not gonna be easy if your squad don’t get on-side. Admittedly, I can imagine that right now the average Labour conference has an atmosphere about as toxic as the average home game at the Arsenal. Wenger Out! Corbyn In! Right? True, your both as snappy with the press when it comes to awkward questions. But out of the two there’s never been any doubt regarding your management skills during crisis situations, has there Jez?
Either way, I have stuck by you both over the years. Red Army all the way. There was never any doubt about giving you my vote during your leadership elections. Leftie firebrand red head sponsoring a socialist candidate in a country that couldn’t stomach Red Ed, they said.
Confession: I wavered a little bit the second time. I know, I know. Weren’t gonna vote at all after the chicken coup. What’s the point endorsing someone who can’t strategize his way out of a corner let alone shoot to score, I had begun to think. Power’s not the be all and end all, my mates in Sheffield reassured me. Blairite sell-out, they called me. You can have political and ideological impact outside of office, they reminded me. It’s not always about winning all the time so long as you stay in the Premiership. Or something like that.
These encouraging thoughts filled my belly with fire… I mean it could have been the whiskey, but I like to think it was faith in the cause. One way or the other, I got into several drunken rows in Camden over how much of a bell-end any Labour Party member was who opposed you. Could also have been the ten-foot mural describing JC as the people’s champ subliminally seeping into my noggin on the way through town.
Hate to say it, Jez, but I think that mural’s the best bit of campaign literature I have seen come out of Labour for some time now… and I think the guy who graffitied it also painted the psychedelic brain monsters around the corner.
In fact, fella, since we’re being honest with one another… we can both pretty much count on Labour getting obliterated when this election comes up in a few months. Don’t look at me like that mate! I know it’s going to hurt when they spend a decade or two using Labour’s utter defeat to discredit socialism and make any vaguely left-wing notion look completely fucking stupid despite how practical, logical or commonsensical it might actually be.
Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s the media. As a matter of fact, the Left is always gonna be screwed over by parliamentary democracy. It’s all that hegemonic ideological power in the hands of the Establishment.
That’s what it’ll be. That’s the reason you’re not gonna win, m’fraid Jez.
Although. I mean. Lately, I have been having this niggling feeling that the failure of the democratic process is actually down to the fact that, at core, people are horrible, racist, misogynistic, homophobic cunts.
Ha. Guess that makes me part of the metropolitan elite. Enemy of the people, they’ll say. Ah well. In that case, since I am there now, I might as well go and have a cuppa in the house I’ll never afford or a drive in the car I’ll never own all thanks to that decent paying job I’ll never have. There’s nothing like the sweet smell of unsuccessful capitalism to make you forget about silly things like the West’s ever-ballooning refugee crisis and all the bombs that Trump’s about to drop on China or Korea or Mexico or Germany or whichever one it was.
Never mind, hey Jez. Wenger’s been fucking up for years now too and they still keep renewing his contract.
Red Army all the way.