Last year the Labour Party chose Ed Miliband as their leader. It was a very bad decision based on the fact that the unions didn’t want his brother David Miliband because he looked too much like Tony Blair and that it would have been too sensible an idea.
Ed Miliband has proved over the past 12 months that he is not a leader in any way shape or form. He might make an extremely good character for Creature Comforts but unless we want Morph as a prime minister, one suspects the barrel of Tory policy is what we will all be staring down for the next ten to 15 years. Indeed, I can hear the words ‘bah, bay, bah’ ‘ ringing loudly in my ears each time I hear the current Labour leader start another useless, meandering sentence.
I simply can’t take Ed Miliband seriously. I drove home yesterday and, inbetween a bout of severe diarrohea that necessitated a hastily planned pitstop at the Old Fox Inn on the A428, I listened to Ed nasal his way through a monumentally bad speech no doubt inspired by back-to-back viewings of Scooby Doo archive material.
‘There’s bad businesses and good businesses, and we want to weed out the bad ones,’ Ed told us in fluent Klingon, and then he explained that the bad businesses would face the full force of his wrath.
So Ed, tell me how do you plan to do the weeding? Are you going to get a large gun? And how would you begin to even establish what’s a good business and a bad one? One suspects a board of directors dressed in masks, stripey T-shirts carrying swagbags, saying things like: ‘I ain’t singing like no canary’, is what Ed and his ragtag, second-rate shadow cabinet is looking for.
‘We need a new bargain,’ Ed rambled on and then he told us about things he felt were wrong in the world, y’know like eating with your mouth open, standing on rakes, peeling back your eyelids, pretending to be a lizard, making squelching noises with your armpits, seeing what happens when you put your index finger in a fan and men that gob in urinals for no apparent reason.
And who the hell understands what a ‘new bargain’ is. This is language dreamed up by committee that couldn’t find a suitable slogan. I reckon Ed passed a pound shop and reasoned it work of genius. I assume there was no-one in the Miliband speechwriting team who didn’t have the foresight or maybe even the gumption to say: ‘Er, Ed. You might want to not say this because it really is utter utter bollocks.’
During his speech Ed made self-deprecatory jokes about having an operation on his nose, telling us that he had had his septum realigned, which kind of begs the question as to why the surgeons didn’t remove the snooker ball residing firmly up his nostrils while they were at it.
I am sad that we have a plasticine man as leader of the opposition because I don’t want to be told on a daily basis that picking up my peas with the fork turned up is wrong. I can’t bear the thought that my journeys home will from now on be punctuated by Ed Miliband-inspired digestion problems. And really, it isn’t a good sign when you realise that the mere sound of Ed Miliband is enough to make you want to shit in your car.