An irregular, irreverent, post-modern account of the surreal, the ordinary, and the bizarre happenings on and around the Felia lavender farm in Crete

Wednesday, August 16, 2006


Can someone explain to me why every time I turn on Radio 4 these days the only UK politician I hear, with the exception of the odd and minor political lickspittle, is that fascist bully John Reid? Looking like a grown old skinhead and sounding as though he could hardly care less about the civil liberties of the electorate, this man, who cannot distinguish between "regrettable" and "regretful", bombasts his way through every performance. He oozes the same kind of certitude as does his boss Tony - unthinking, beyond logic, beyond the wishes of the electorate.

Why do we get this Scot speaking for Britain? Rather than the other greasy Scot? The one at number 11? Supposedly the next prime minister? Why not the official deputy prime minister who is supposed to be running the country in the absence of the actual prime minister? Big John?

Is Tony setting him up to oppose Gordon Brown? And shifting one big John off to the side for another big John? Does the electorate get any say? I think not.

There is a solitary upside to this substitution: For a week or two I do not have to swallow my bile as the hideous image of Tony Blair's shit eating grin is flashed onto my internal projector, as happens whenever I hear his sincere and self certain religio-political prognostications.

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