When Jeremy Corbyn scrambled into the Labour throne it was initially slightly comedic but quickly settled into something that most certainly became a breath of fresh air.
Love was in the air. Something fresh, invigorating, and exciting was blowing through British politics. It may have been populism, but it was GOOD populism,
For some time I wore this T Shirt to in a small way articulate my disappointment (hatred frankly) with Tony Blair’s New Labour (new Tory more like) neoliberal rhetoric.
But all of a sudden, under Corbyn that T shirt became redundant.
Instead I opted for this one. It garnered smiles, back slaps and an incredibly warm response. Especially from young people who loved Corbyn’s attitude.
Corbyn was the new face of democratic politics in the UK that almost moved me away from the solid social democracy of the excellent and consistent SNP.
But as Brexit has unfolded he has steadily unravelled and shown himself to be as conceited, party political, AT ALL COSTS, as his disgusting opposite number, Theresa May. His handling of the anti-semitism accusations was laughable.
Now, imagine him running a whole goddam country. It doesn’t bear thinking about.
His party is every bit as divided as the Tories and well he knows it.
But it has reached a zenith this week. In particular, his decision not to join May’s cross party ‘outreach’ discussions, that begin today, makes him both unelectable and dangerous. He has lost the fucking plot.
Sure, May’s ‘reaching out’ might be in name only – but you’ve got to be in it to win it – and Corbyn is sat sulking, like a stupid little schoolboy, in some corridor while the biggest decision in my political life is made without him.
The look on his face when his vote of no confidence lost was pathetic; a scowling, sulking brat.
Jeremy. You blew it.