He’s some man ,the pretendy big J fella under the halo, is he not? I’m sure that in there somewhere, under and behind that beard there was once a chin, principles and a backbone. They might even re-appear again once the corruption of potential power is in his past, Tony Benn he isn’t though, that’s for sure.
He’s got the charismatic personality of an auld colour-dulled dish cloot or a sponge that’s been left wet and soapy too long and turned slimy, which probably explains why he can’t raise his political party’s profile high enough consistently in the polls to look anywhere near like they would ever stand a chance of beating the worst, least talented, overtly moronic, Hooray Henryist, bunch of self-aggrandising wasters ever to work their ticket to corporate board membership and peerage Nirvana via the government benches in the Commons.
If he was supposed to be the antidote to the sickly smarm of the Member for Sedgefield, his arch alter-ego, the son of the Manse or the extra from Wallace and Gromit that came after that, who, when confronted by two young Glasgow lassies with a wean in the pram asking him a serious question during the Belters Together love-train invasion from London of September 2014, felt it was either beneath him to engage in conversation or couldn’t think of an answer he was confident of delivering that the wean wouldn’t laugh at and point at him shouting “yer zip’s doon, ya wallaper!”, he comes up somewhat short.
Labour will never again be the party that didn’t need to count their votes in Scotland, they just had to weigh them. Underneath the veneer of loud-hailing one-liner headline progressive policies the guy is just like the rest. When it comes to Scotland he knows the score. He won’t admit it, but he knows deep down the reasons why his party is as popular in its former heartlands as a particularly nippy in-growing hair on a bum cheek.
He knows that instead of trotting out the same old rubbish, that Independence will result in turbo-charged austerity and renewing Trident is the right thing to do, even though he purports to abhor the very thought of weapons of mass murder, that he should instead have taken the bull by the pointy sharp bits way back when he came to the surface and worked with Nicola Sturgeon to unseat the Flying Circus act which is currently selling tickets for a bus trip to economic oblivion.
Like the rest of the London-based political class he is afraid of real democracy. He’s afraid to give the party of Scottish government credence. He’s another one just in it for himself. Watching his recent interview on Channel 4 he was asked six times whether he thought the UK would be better off once it left the EU. Six times he didn’t directly answer the question. Six times he lobbed out the same tired trope about future relationships with the EU being crucial to the UK that his counter-weight, the wooden Prime-Minister, would use in response. He knows Brexit will be a disaster but the very sniff of a chance at power and he’s not going to say that in case it harms his prospects of leading the country, even if it means he’s leading it through a catastrophe.
The whole Carry on Up the Brexit escapade germinated, sprouted and blossomed around an internal Tory Party power struggle, and Jezza’s not prepared to call it what it actually is in case it causes just as big a power struggle in the Labour Party too, where they are already trying to unseat him.
It’s like watching a play about the Romans, exploding volcanoes and mountains of spewing lava, without the hippy woven sandals. A disaster is coming, and nobody who has influence at Westminster is prepared to try and stop it. Bonkers, complete bonkers.
Having been ignored, having had no input, having had no real consultation, having been marginalised and treated with condescension on this hugely significant process, Scotland has one option. Independence. Run, run fast, do not look back.