There've been some new developments in the Parliamentary races this week. LibDem leader Charles Kennedy has become a daddy, no word yet if he's a Strong Father archetype (a la George Lakoff), or a Nurturant Parent. Nevertheless, Anita Miles of The Times scolds him in today's paper, or maybe it's baby Donald she's scolding, for deciding to be born on the most-important Manifesto Manifestation Day. She thinks Daddy should have told his wife and newborn to bugger off while he did more important stuff, like launch the LibDem manifesto, which absolutely no one will read anyway. (Just a suggestion, but maybe that manifesto could include some sort of surcharge on whinging, along the lines of anti-social behaviour orders.)
As I've been traveling the hills and dales of merry old England, I'm seeing signs of a quickening campaign. Conservative posters and signs outnumber Labour about nine to one. They seem to be urging you to put "matron" in charge, though "matronly" isn't how I'd describe Michael Howard. They're also coming down hard on immigration, which seems awfully un-American of them. I mean, this country was founded on the hard work and perseverance of foreigners, like that chap William of Normandy...so maybe they can get some mileage by campaigning against asylum seekers, but that doesn't make it right. Does it?
Labour, meanwhile, is campaigning to help "hard working families, just like you." Fine. But I'm actually sort of a slacker. A pajama blogger, they call my particular breed of slacker. (Others are known as "journalists." See also "whore.") And what about the idle rich? The toffs with more time on their hands now that foxhunting's been outlawed? The posh gits who clog up the aisles at Waitrose during the day when honest blokes are out earning a living? The parties don't seem to be openly courting the slacker vote, which is a shame, because there's a lot of votes in them there Rolls. Seems right shabby of New Labour, after creating so many New Millionaires, to just abandon them.
But of course it's all a moot point for me; I can't vote, at least not at the ballot box. I can, however, lift a pint in support of my favourite candidate:
Now that's an election reform that makes sense!
