On the Leaders’ Debate

Well, after the will they
Or won’t they debate,
The State’s leaders and bleeders
Stepped up to the Fates…

Prep Natalie read so she wouldn’t
Forget (and because we must not)
Though her high rising terminal
Threatened to grate. And Integrity
Clegg pimped his pledges to hedge
Between used-to-be-Redder
And Blue-for-the-Few,
While Farage of Myopia
Painted dystopia to anyone
Who could stomach his spew.

But sort-of-Red Ed,
Newly risen from dead,
Showed it wasn’t a fluke
As he put up his dukes,
Teasing Dave I won’t take
Any lectures from you

(Though the Scottish and
Welsh ladies dished one
Or two.)

And Callme, please
(Call me out)
There on his limb, with
Few friends and less chance
Than before of a win, pulled
His faux-concerned face to
Each camera’s place, though
We knew all his fear
Was reserved just for him.

And, naturally, after, in Media’s
‘Spin Room’, the groupies and
Roadies all claimed a team win
Although, finally, everyone had to
Agree that from out of the Hydra
Were three best received:

For the women were brilliant,
Strong and refreshing, had stood
For no messing and come out on top
Because, whether you counted Ed
With them or not, the good Left is
Wot won it and plebeian blessing
Looks ready to shift, having seen
The Right die in its own pile of shit.

What a mess

What a mess
that we must
second guess
at best
or blindly trust
some whimsy gist
of ideological rust
dressed up
as finest acumen
by flimsy men
of mist and lust.

Another Fudge-it Budget

Bulging with indulgence came
The Chance Seller, with silken
Purse and pork pie puns, for yet
Another Fudge-it Budget in the
Name of long-term economic con.

And so, quid promo comeback kid
Dished guesstimated sums to wish
Conserve yourself priorities upon
A cursed majority, submerged by
Preservation of his power-driven
Chums.

And to that end, he further nursed
The fortunate already Ones,
Pretending he was nurturing
Recovery for all by spending only
What a showman would and cleverly
Consolidating vulnerable people
Where he dared to think he could.

And every time an ‘expert’ crooned
About a magic hat attuned to sly
Electioneering tat supplied to Party
Wriggle room, a naked M&M danced
Into my imagination’s view as like to
Affirmation’s clue: that ethics and
A Common Good, ignored or just
Misunderstood, George Osborne
Simply could not, would not do.

“It’s time Britain had a pay rise”

“It’s time Britain had a pay rise”
cries the latest copied in haste
and pasted neocon fix to this
interminably
long-term economic plan.
Look! There it is!
Away and over the horizon
hence why
no serf can perceive it
and no self-serve business man
will voluntarily conceive it
more than meaninglessly
light request and clear
electioneering scam.

Telling Campaign Tales

Ring out the sounds of state
With the deadweight of strained thought
And the soft focus of a mediocre media
Sing tedious warnings and panicked pledge
Bring forth the heavy intellect of dinosaurs
The dread threats of the buyers and the bought
Sling in the pimped endorsement of the A-to-Zed-list clique
Because, where would we be without a High Def guest to grace the frame?
Just pile-em-high and sell-em-cheap
And to the Commons, do the same.

George’s Porkies

George’s porkies, readily sly
Dissed the country with his lies
When the serfs all heard him bray
George’s corkers shamed the day

Georgie forges waffle and punt
Missed his targets, pulled a stunt
When the fat cats heard him spin
They knew they had scored a win

Georgie gorges, feeding his face
Dishes gifts to stay in place
When the funds need plumping up
George whips out his greedy cup

Georgie More Please wanted it all
Pissed his duty up the wall
When the chance shall come to pass
George be kicked out on his ass.

Georgie Worgie, Gidiot laced
Wished a nightmare on the state
When his vicious reign is done
George had better bloody run

Labour is hard work

In 2010 I became sick of always being cynical and decided to opt for healthy scepticism to coincide with the formation of a Coalition Government. It was a new day: exciting unchartered territory. I’ve always supported the concept of proportional representation so I thought this would be an enlightening adventure. And anyway, wasn’t it all Labour’s fault? And wasn’t this an emergency?

I’ve never had much time for labelling and categorisations. I never cared whether my opinions were to the left or right. Hey, if it’s correct and it works, who cares, I mused. I thought I was above that kind of restrictive, pigeon-holing crap. In my mind I still am. But in my heart? Well, now…

That was three years ago. Now, through getting to grips with the 3 Ms of modern finance: Machination, Manipulation and Malfeasance, I find that my search for solutions, insofar as they fit my personal philosophies, rather neatly consigns me to lean left in most socio-political issues. But that doesn’t mean I support Labour. It doesn’t mean that I trust Labour. It just confirms for me that there’s no viable alternative. It actually makes me feel a bit sick to think that, unless I decide to spoil my ballot, I will have to settle for this party that merely sits slightly to the left of the right – just to ensure the absence of the actual Right. And oh my, do I need some reassurance!

I’m afraid they will still compromise principle for trade, resources and territory, like this present government and all predecessors. I’m not convinced they know how to construct an economy which serves the people. All the people, rather than just some on the backs of others. I’m almost certain they will happily exploit other countries and peoples through neo-primitive accumulation, war and broken window policies.

I’ve come to recognise that, contrary to media and Tory propaganda, Labour in fact has a better handle on finance and what constitutes a healthy economic climate than either part of the Coalition of Conservatives but I don’t trust them to fully take the City on. I fear that Labour will still be more afraid of the banksters, corporations and foreign investors than the party will be of its electorate and I’m worried that they’ll bow to idiotic economists – you know the types: the ones who wish they were real scientists.

And I’m concerned about this fixation on the ‘centre ground’ for it is a relative notion with no real meaning. Calling something the centre doesn’t make it so. It doesn’t mean moderate either – Blair taught me that. I’m worried that Labour’s thinking is still too keen on measuring and projecting itself in order to fit with the mainstream. You see, the mainstream is a large part of our problem: its default setting being the status quo. Mainstream doesn’t stretch itself. It doesn’t question assumptions or readily imagine alternative views and those with vested interests, particularly politicians, take full and cynical advantage of this. I need my leaders to have the courage to be the exception. I’ve no problem with concepts becoming mainstream – that’s a measure of success in my book. But I don’t want to live there permanently. It’s stale and boring and anyway, look! It doesn’t sustain or even guarantee stability and security. It’s just holding fear or complacency in suspended animation until all manner of crazy starts oozing out of the appearing cracks.

For instance, take this borrowing malarkey. If Labour understands the economic argument and the method then they should have the courage – this much-heralded conviction – and advocate and explain it. Not in pre-fabricated chunks but properly, on a level that everyone can understand. They need to give us their economic lesson; demonstrate their theory. Don’t be shy or apologetic. Prove to the mainstreamers that they really do have a better financial grasp than the Conservatives. I’m all ears and I’m waiting…

Oh… and, as for proportional representation – this Coalition has rather put me off.

General Election

We submit our objection
To your misdirection
And ripping apart of our seams.
We demand some correction by General Election
To save us from your crazy schemes.

We’ve made our inspection
Of your poor protection
And find it is wanting in deed.
We insist on reflection and General Election
With growing impatience and need.

We suffer infection
By your faux perfections
Induced by your ideals and creeds.
To avoid insurrection give General Election
As purge of your tumorous weeds.

We condemn your erection
Of onanist sections
That waste what you’ve given away.
We demand re-collection by General Election:
Redress to appalling decay.

We announce our rejection
Of moral confections
And doublespeak easy forays.
We instruct new selection by General Election:
The way and the day for our say.