Him Indoors has turned very strange since I last wrote. He’s always been a bit of a current affairs fan-boy, keeping up to date with the news and suchlike programmes on TV. He’s always read newspapers – obviously the football pages – but also the politics and world affairs. His addiction has helped me lots because he tells me about what he’s watching or reading, so I think I can fairly claim to be an educated Springer even if I am still denied the right to vote. (More later)
Since the election has been called though, an odd thing has happened. We virtually never watch a news bulletin on tv, he’s given up watching the daily politics stuff, Newsnight appears to have gone off air and there is a conspicuous lack of newspapers. I hadn’t really noticed until last night when it dawned upon me that he’d started shouting at the tv again and it wasn’t football!
He was watching our four “leaders” being questioned by the public. Thankfully he didn’t watch it for long, he couldn’t stand it. He lay down and went to sleep!!!!
As the weeks have passed, it has been a quiet place. Instead of politics, it seems The Crown has taken over his attention. Have you seen those corgis strutting about? Not in my class of handsome, don’t you agree?
Instead of watching the politics, and shouting at the tv, The Boss has taken to using me as his verbal dustbin. He is reading the papers, so their articles prompt comments as I lay by him. I can now safely provide you with a summary of his comments, although I have redacted the expletives which inevitably accompany the tirade of words.
It seems our beloved Prime Minister Johnson is a liar and cheat, supported by a bunch of red-neck Fascists from America. He leads a cabinet of chancers whose every utterance confirms their incompetence. It also appears that The Boss considers him an upper-class chancer, who thinks the rest of us are plebs and not worthy of him, so lying doesn’t matter.
The cuddly Jeremy is apparently still living in the 1970’s with his plans to turn us into a Marxist (or Leninist) state using an identikit based upon his Russian heroes. I was informed yesterday – as I lay dozing quietly after an afternoon stroll – that because he has a good memory he well remembers Saint Corbyn and his mate McDonnell standing on IRA platforms, attending IRA funerals in support, openly supporting Hamas and Hezbollah and generally being a bloke anti everything the UK did!!
Next thing I know I’m hearing all about how Him Indoors helped set up the Liberals in Bewdley in the 1970’s when he first moved here. (I confess I didn’t realize he was that old, I just thought he’d aged badly) He seems to think that “the Swinson” was missing a great opportunity because the others are so bad.
As we got closer to the Election Day he started asking me questions!! Some of them were pretty big for a simple creature like me. Can you find Dylan, any decent alternatives to the lies of Boris and the fiction of Corbyn, he asked me.
He started to rant then. He tells me has looked, really tried, but never in his 72 years has he encountered such a terrible level of political incompetence.
Nobody, literally nobody, is a leader. The standard of minister and shadow minister is so bad that if he was still in charge of a business he would not employ a single one of them. Not one. In fact, he told me, he would rather employ me.
At a time when our country needs real leadership we are offered…nothing but cheap political point scoring from all of our political parties.“Get Brexit Done” or “Save Our NHS” are not policies. Any sign of a long-term care programme? How do we deal with climate change?
Glib and unsubstantiated catch phrases is all we hear. How? What is the plan? The strategy? What are the tactics within the strategy? Where will the strategy leave us in 5 years? What are the outcomes of these so-called policies? Him Indoors and me discuss these things as we sit on the settee.
The Tories with Johnson are self-centred, self-interested money grubbing arses without a social conscience between them. Labour with Corbyn are jealous of all personal success, hate any personal wealth (except their own with their Islington houses and inherited thousands) and wish to redistribute on an unfair and possibly illegal manner without understanding in any way personal aspirations of individuals. They think they know better than us poor old plebs. Do as we tell you, not as we do, is their socialist truth.
How did we get here?
Then he starts on one of his favourite topics. He says to me that a start may be to change an unfair electoral system so that ALL votes matter – not just a few in a few constituencies. Perhaps then we could create a coalition government (it seems to have been pretty successful in Germany) that covered the broad brush of our society and not just the narrow supporters of a political party.
But we are not looking forward to Friday whatever the result – because whatever it is, us mere mortals will be ignored and trampled over whoever theoretically takes charge. Who ever wins I, your favourite springer spaniel, give you a completely without fact based forecast. The next five years will bring very, very bad times for all us plebs. Our tax will increase hugely, so will our interest rates and our services (incl nhs) will still be poor. The lot in charge won’t feel a thing!
As an unbiased watcher of life, I shall be glad to return to normality with The Boss. He’s much happier about his football team and that means Rumpy Pumpy court is a much happier place.
He tells me he’s planning to start entertaining again which means scrummy food for me in the left-overs. Please Boss, can we have no more ranting at the politicians and just enjoy going back to organising Bewdley Festival. My view from the pavement is much more enjoyable. So if I don’t get to sit down at the keyboard in next couple of weeks, Him Indoors and I wish you a very happy Christmas and a healthy New Year. I send you a waggy tail and a lick from this handsome boy.
Woof! Woof!
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