By poet Attila the Stockbroker in Britain:
Latitudinal distinctions in life and art
Saturday 16th July 2016
SO, LOATHSOME Leadsom left the race. Thatcherzombie was anointed without fuss or mandate and we were denied the pleasure of seeing the Tories rip themselves to shreds. Shame. I was looking forward to more Shakespearian antics from the Nasty Party.
The Blairzombies, on the other hand, seem determined to do their best to tear the Labour Party apart, despite overwhelming evidence that Jeremy Corbyn will win once again in the forthcoming ballot which, as we already knew, he was fully entitled to contest.
Of course, the ludicrous right-wing cabal which passes for our “free, democratic media” will now, as one, declare once again that Jezza is “unelectable, because we say so.”
The same media which printed endless lies about “immigrants” and trumpeted Brexit promises which were trashed the day after the vote by the people who made them. The same media which has divided our country in half and seen racial attacks and incidents soar.
The logic of the anti-Corbyn camp goes thus: “Be realistic, we all know the Tory press and Kuenssberg hate us, the only chance we have got is to have a right-wing leader acceptable to them, otherwise we’ll get slaughtered by them and people won’t vote for us.”
There is literally no point in the Labour Party if five unelected press billionaires and a nobbled BBC are allowed to vet its manifesto. The fact that their dominance is accepted as a political commonplace is a disgrace and a stain on democracy. Simple as that.
It’s going to be bloody difficult to get the truth out there given the vested interests ranged against us but that’s what we need to do. That is the point of a mass campaigning party, which Labour now at last is. Forwards. Get Jeremy re-elected.
Then let’s tackle the media, head on.
I’ve been doing my little bit to support him in the last few weeks. A packed Stand Up For Labour pub show in Chiswick where, not for the first time, I was the warm-up act for the shadow chancellor — I’d not have imagined that in my wildest dreams 10 months ago — and an amazing gig last Monday week in Swansea at the huge Brangwyn Hall, with 800 people for Jezza.
Last Thursday I had another Stand Up For Labour gig in Guildford and, as you read this, I’ll be at the Latitude festival.
Latitude is different. Last time I played there, my wife Robina and I were woken in our tent by two young kids loudly discussing the difference between a tepee and a yurt.
And it’s the only festival I’ve ever been to with a sign at the bar Champagne Flutes Recycled Here and the only one where I have been heckled by a banker. (I won.) But I don’t want to preach to the converted all the time. Bring it on.
Many of you will be reading this at the Tolpuddle festival and I’ll be thinking of you. I’m still persona non grata there and I still don’t really know why.
But, unlike the Blairzombies, I’ll accept the decision, and stand in solidarity with you all. Have a great time, comrades and party hard. We’ve got an election to win soon.