The Purge!

When nineteen Cabinet Members upped and resigned from Labour's front bench (26th June 2016)- dominoes toppling upon the hour- one could have concluded any from a multitude of things about the state of the Labour Party. The media- our 'bastions' of democracy- had been relentless in pursuit of the newly elected Leader, ever since the day of his popular victory on 12th September 2015. Hilary Benn- surely of questionable DNA- had immediately set to plotting to ride roughshod over the wishes of party members, cosying up instead to the BBC's Laura Kuenssberg. Was he perhaps defending democracy... no, not that democracy, 'this improved democracy?'

Apparently we should have surmised, way back in September, that he (Corbyn) wasn't up to the task, firstly because "he was an evil socialist," but then- when this didn't reap the desired rewards- instead because "he was a "thoroughly decent chap, just not quite up to the job." There were more than enough 'automatons' prepared to stand up and to be counted, in the narrower interests of the parliamentary monopoly. Surely then, this would work, it'd always wrought the 'right sort of rewards' in the past?

Watching PMQs at the time, one might have assumed that many in the freshly appointed Cabinet had been replaced whilst asleep, with just so many stuffed suits. Almost to the letter the policies were the same, almost, and yet those Cabinet faces appeared as if frozen in mute deference to forces far beyond their democratic remit.

Cometh the hour cometh the Benn (2nd Dec 2015). Or perhaps it was more a case of, anything you can do I can do better, as the nation prepared once again to play the part of the Vengeful God of International Affairs? How the puppets danced, and how the papers rustled, and how the muttering grew to a grumbling, and the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling, and in the Houses the MPs and the Lords respect went a tumbling (yet further!). If Tony could wave that loaded gun about why then not also little Hilary? Lights, action, staged applause, cut, that's a wrap!

With the Chilcot Report due (6th July) the nation could have been forgiven for thinking that Teflon Tony would opt to stay put on the far side of the Atlantic, where rumour has it that he might still be welcomed in certain military circles. But no, this situation was far too pressing for such considerations, there was some serious undermining to be done. Was there nothing that this man would not sacrifice for his country? And here was a soul- assuming all the while that he actually has one of these- versed to perfection in the not-so-fine art of sacrifice (ref Chilcot).

The internationally reviled war criminal duly offered us his tarnished verdict. "If your heart's with Jeremy Corbyn get a transplant," he joshed to a certain carefully orchestrated response. An option that was sadly much too late for the hundreds of thousands slaughtered in consequence, in large part, of his unspeakable overseas record. Such was the sheer weight of darkness cast by this man's unholy shadow that even the UK's media were unable, or unprepared, to fully endorse his aspersions. Confound it, the fool might just as well have been conscripting new Corbynistas... or was it Trots? ... entryists? ... stormtroopers? Keeping abreast of the correct battle parlance was becoming almost an achievement in itself.

Time then to wheel out John Mann (28th April), a character who could shout and jab his finger along with the very best of them, just as long as he wasn't expected to think and walk at the same time. Wind him up, point him in the right direction, and watch him go. Even so, it might be an idea to brief the media first, to gather in the vultures for the show. Careful though, we didn't want them pointing out that 'anti-semite' and 'anti-zionist' were not one and the same thing, did we? Fortunately, the essential dumbing down of the UK's press, much of it, had already taken place decades ago.

It was thought then that some collateral damage might be in order, that the Party might at least bring down Ken Livingstone, assassination by association as 'twere. Plant that diseased seed and let the media nurture and grow it. Shame then that Shami Chakrabarti * should so swiftly have put a heel to those poisonous black shoots. John Mann was duly placed back in his box and again we moved on, He was going to take far too much effort to rewind.

Party numbers continued to rise, curiously both encouraging and yet not quite so encouraging at one and the same time. Just how was the Party to use that fighting fund to best effect? Would it be possible to have that proverbial cake and to eat it at one and the same time?

Cue the BBC comedy panel shows. Really, it mattered not in the slightest that the basis of the pun, any 'suitable' pun, was unfounded, it was vital get it out there before the latest BBC news headline was yet again to be discredited. The plan was to plant those seeds in the empty spaces where they might rattle the loudest.

If only it were possible to somehow emphasise the importance of the 172 incumbent MPs whilst at the same time diminishing that of  the 150,000 members. Wasn't that what statisticians were created for? John Humphreys, bless, had done his best. But by the time that the BBC's oft-dropped baton had been passed on to Andrew Marr, between the pair of them, the buffoons had almost worn the damned thing out! "Pick it up and run, Andrew Neil, go for Christ's sake!" was rumoured to have been heard, shouted from a tiny room somewhere in Victoria Street. For those with a mind for the banal there was a curious symmetry to the whole sordid affair; 172 ways to ask the still popular Leader of the Opposition about his disloyal MPs, all the while without once venturing further afield, and into the veritable quagmire of Party Policy. Best to keep the General Public in the dark, it was thought, about the 'origins' of those policies that still seemed so darned sensible to them. Spin faster please, Portland Communications!

Perhaps then, it was suggested, we might consider simply sweeping the current leader under the carpet, pretend that all this ugly democratisation had never happened? Maybe the law courts were going to be able to square that circle. If it wasn't going to be possible to scupper the popular leader's overwhelming support maybe instead the Party could discount 'some' of  those ballot papers? 'Some,' 'virtually all,' in the interests of power did it really matter? In for a penny... 

If only Cameron (29th June) had had the sense to bite his lip, to pretend once again that it was possible to slide a cigarette paper between the 'opposing' parties. But no! Do we think that many people noticed Gove and Mann high-fiving across the floor of The House? Was this to be another case of 'too many cooks spoiling the coup,' once again?

Tom Watson (1st July) could surely negotiate a full surrender, sorry compromise. But not that type of compromise, this type of 'superior compromise.' As long as the Party could prevent him from referring to the bulk of the membership as, "Trotskyists." Surely we weren't thinking about the same Tom Watson who had sat like a redundant motorway cone, during PMQs? Oops, too late anyway, many a slip betwixt the cup and the lip! The "Trot" word was already out there, floating free in the aether. The Party 'faithful' were now behaving like rabbits in the headlights.

Angela Eagle might have had the presence of wet tissue paper- it surely can't seriously have been thought that even she really believed what she was saying- but she could hold up a house brick (12th July) and cry a bit, couldn't she? That was until those awkward questions started to roll in yet again, questions like, "Whose office was it that was actually attacked?" So that ship was quickly abandoned, before further questions like, "Who actually threw the brick?" rose to the surface... what, no surely not! 

And then, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Moses emerging from the wilderness, the light at the end of the long and dark tunnel- although many prefer to think of him as the embodiment of the oil slick that resulted when the SS Eagle hit the rocks- there arose Owen Smith (16th July). Owen who? He may not quite have had a Torch of Justice clutched in his fighting-fist, more a bottle of Pfizer prescription drugs, but here, after many false Gods, was the real deal! The final real deal! The realest real deal!


Owen "No, I never said that!" Smith. Owen, "No, I didn't mean that!" Smith. Owen, the Saviour of the Labour Party, Smith! He had the ringing endorsement of Lord Mayor Sadiq Khan, the invariably late endorsement (unofficially) of Sir Richard Branson. He had the ringing endorsement of the not-suspended Michael "Nazi Stormtrooper" Foster. He may have had the support of the not-suspended Lord Sainsbury, that was unless his £2 million donation to the LibDems was some kind of pointer. But, he never quite had the support of Ronnie Draper, suspended for a Twitter comment like... Well certainly, whatever it was it must have been 'far worse' than calling the bulk of the membership a "bunch of Nazi Stormtroopers!" The NEC, of course, could not comment on the whys or wherefores of their current bout of purgings. They were  far too busy going through a further 180,000 members, seeing if they couldn't purge the voting yet further.

With the taste still bitter in the mouth the Party opted for Blair's mate, Lord Justice Beatson, hoping to finally fix it (8th August), to consign those non-compliant new members to the dustbins en masse. But of course not those lovely subscriptions, the Party was still going to need those. Lord Falconer, presumably another ringing endorsement for Smith, could surely go on record stating his satisfaction with the verdict, the paid-for-with-new-members'-monies verdict. No, not that verdict... this 'perfected verdict.' How could this not help? 130,000 denied votes was surely going to be enough to win the day? 130,000 votes, plus whoever fitted the Corbyn-voter profile amongst the next 180,000 members then? Could the Party use lie detectors, did we think, was there enough time? Who was it that said, "We've got nothing to learn from tin pot dictatorships?" Anyway, the press seemed happy enough; the 'nation,' that part of it destined to rule, could always iron out the post election flack later, post election result as 'twere... no not that election result, this 'improved election result!'

British Virgin Isle tax exile Sir Richard Virgin Branson even broke off from his holidaying to try and derail the leadership election, poor man. If money wasn't going to buy one a leg up in the bought-and-paid-for media then what was the point of it all? That such a moment upon a crowded train should occupy the airtime, and for quite so very long, suggested that this leadership election result was most unlikely to be permitted to stand anyway. The 'remaining' Party Members were almost certainly going to be expected to re-vote. Not because much of the membership were likely to have voted upon a false premise, like they did in the Referendum (Brexit ref.), but instead because it currently seemed unlikely that they were going to be delivering the 'right kind of result.'

The Guardian's drip, drip, drip creation (oft fabrication?) of the Leadership Election news might, under any sort of democratic mandate, have suggested that things had become dreadfully skewed. Next thing you know and people were going to be be expecting news reportage to substitute for news creation. Had they no idea how much more expensive this was to do, especially in these times of austerity?  And, for heaven's sake, we didn't want the media to suddenly start delving overly deeply into the issue of the crowded train (11th August). Instead why couldn't they just default to believing Sir Richard's words, a knight of the realm, over the words of all of his minions, who were definitely not knights of the realm? We didn't want people to actually start wondering whether they could really could see into those seats, or fail to hear the protestations of quite so many people who were really on the train and could easily do just that, see into those questionable seats. 

Oil those politicians well... no, not those politicians, 'these better politicians.' But there would be no need to oil the hinges at those Constituency Labour Party Meets, because we couldn't have them discussing the leadership campaign whilst the Party were, err, discussing the, err, leadership campaign, could we? No, not that discussion, this 'more informed and cleansed discussion.' 

Did the General Public not understand just how much more magical the prime 53 was, how much more alluring it could be than the wholly ordinary 285? (Constituency Labour Party endorsements ref). Was there absolutely no way that the NEC could prevent the mis-voting, vaccinate, gerrymander? Gerrymander even further? Could they use lie-detectors, did they think, was there time?

So, the NEC are busily putting members' monies to 'valuable' use, in order to ensure that what we end up with is the 'correctly endorsed leader of the party,' decided with the trusty Pfizer-endorsed hand held firmly to the breast, that Michael Foster- he of the "Nazi stormtrooper," comment- may be proud to call his own, and all on the members' behalf of course.

When Michelangelo stood back and observed that mighty block of marble, brought his finest chisels to bear and began chipping away at his entombed 'David' (1501-1504), who could have imagined the artistry that would result? Then perhaps we should just conclude that of all those newly-enthused members are to be merely the 'necessary' dust upon the floor about the feet of the chosen one... no not that chosen one, 'this more-perfect chosen one.' Even if he doesn't carry the memory of his latest hustings comment as far as his next interview, who cares, he's our leader, our appointed leader! Am I purged yet?

You say a Corbyn victory will cost the nation how much in evaded taxes, Mr Balls? Put that wand away, Ms Rowling, that won't work here, remember? The Dalai Lama is rumoured to have said exactly what?

* Repeating an earlier post idea, I would suggest that this spoken record of what Shami Chakrobarti has to say about the current state of the Labour Party, specifically with regards to any racist happenings within, is far more worthy of attention than any of the above.