NBC Nightly News ran a heartrending piece tonight on the suffering of seniors and those on fixed incomes, desperate to make ends meet as food and gas prices skyrocket. One unfortunate old Californian couple had to live in a van when the rent on their house was raised beyond their means to pay. Immediately following this woeful piece, was a segment on the luxurious lifestyle of pampered thoroughbred horses bred for the racing fraternity.
Apparently, the irony was lost on Brian Williams and his crew.
In Britain, voting has been taking place in local council elections – always a barometer of public sentiment towards the government – and Gordon Brown’s Labour Party is in deep trouble. Looked at logically, Gordon Brown has held the reigns of power for less than a year, so the tribulations that caused the British people to turn so violently from their government are actually Tony Blair’s old chickens coming home to roost. Unfortunately for poor Gordon, he’s been left desperately trying to clear the vast quantity of fermented guano from the hen house floor.
In London, England, matters have become more than dire. Ken Livingstone, a Labour mayor with a strong Socialist background, who worked hard to turn the nation’s capital into something more than the world’s greatest carpark, has lost his position to the biggest Tory buffoon ever to grace the Palace of Westminster. Boris Johnson, is an archetypical braindead Etonian who’s only claim to fame has been an endless round of quiz shows and late-night chats; his only contribution, to make other contestants look vaguely intelligent.
Even his father, in a BBC interview, could only define Johnson’s enthusiasm for the mayoral position by stating that he’d “….even stopped drinking for three months.”
In this excerpt from the UK comedy quiz show, “Have I Got News For You”, Ian Hislop, editor of the British satirical magazine Private Eye, reminds Johnson of his seedy past.
There was a time when American elections made British politics look satisfyingly sensible. The US media can be relied on to turn any political event into a fairground switchback ride, but the British media is not so easy to condemn. At the end of the day, when matters turn pear-shaped, the Brits only have themselves to blame.
Tony Blair knew full well what he was doing when he sprinted off to America and left the ruins of his policies in the hands of Gordon Brown, but the British fail to grasp such easy logic. There was even talk in some spheres recently of the ‘heady days of Blair’s premiership’.
How quickly they forget.
Such reaction may be understood in the US, where Blair could do no wrong, despite him fawning up to the most hated US president since……since……well, ever really…… but the British are usually quite good at laying blame where it’s deserved, so anyone waxing lyrical over Tony Blair surely has to be a candidate for the psyche ward.
Why this apparent breakdown of sanity across the pond?
Probably, it’s a severe case of politician disillusionment. Ever since Maggie Thatcher and her abortive poll tax, one prime minister after another has promised the earth and delivered only dung. Now, the Brits aren’t prepared to allow Gordon Brown the luxury of delivering the earth, even if he proved capable of doing so, and when the going gets tough they’ll inevitably turn to humor.
With rising prices, a National Health Service in chaos (thanks to Tony) and an unseasonably cold, wet, spring that’s sending even the illegal immigrants scampering for the Channel Tunnel and balmier climes, the British answer is to have a bloody good laugh.
Unlike NBC’s Californian seniors forced to vacate their home, live in a van, and complain bitterly about it, the British will simply titter, say “it were much worse in the Blitz, luv…” and vote Boris Johnston Mayor of London, just to enjoy the unholy mess he’ll make of the job.
Meanwhile, Gordon Brown picks up his brush and shovel and heads back to the henhouse. He may not be Tony Blair, but he knows what he wants to do if the voters will just give him a chance, and he’s maybe dogmatic enough to win out in the end.
And those high-living Kentucky racehorses are preparing for their grand Derby on Saturday. I see one of the runners is called “Big Brown”.
Maybe, I’ll risk a dollar or two on the nose.
Filed under: Desperate times