May 2015

On a balmy evening in May 2015, the shell-shocked crop of recently elected Members was trying to make sense of the situation.  In scenes reminiscent of a 1950's nuclear war training film, dazed and leaderless Honourable Members shuffled about the halls of Westminster snarling angrily at each other and waving their hands in the air in disbelief.  Miliband, it was said, had perished in Doncaster but his loyal lieutenants were furiously denying his demise. Clegg had been smashed in Sheffield leaving tearful supporters wringing their hands in a vain expression of sorrow.  Cameron was still standing appealing for calm whilst Gove scratched resentfully under stones for any signs of life.  Salmond and Farage, phalanxed by their baying hosts, screamed legitimacy from the rafters.  Good old BoJo tried to rally the troops with another barn-storming display reminiscent of the bitter campaign.  Astonishingly, for the assembled company, the electorate at large was not in the least bit interested.  They were out looking for an open cash machine after the Eurozone banking crisis had finally crossed the channel and frozen the financial system.  News of the opportunistic Russian annexation of  Eastern Ukraine seemed to be important but most people could not understand why - nobody had talked about defence in the campaign and NATO had become a four-letter word.  But from the bunkers the race for the headlines was on - who could provide the Dr Strangelove plan for post-apocalypse survival?

"Better have another election cried someone."

"No fear," shouted another, "we dare not trust the electorate again."

"Wake up dear, there's your tea," said my wife.

 Startled by my lapse into reverie I picked up the newspaper and resumed reading from where I had drifted off:

"The paradox of Ed Miliband is that the more unpopular he gets, the more certain it becomes that Britain needs him," said Mary Riddell.

Thank goodness someone has a grip on reality!