I was reviewing the newspapers on BBC Radio Ulster’s (sic) ‘Sunday Sequence’ yesterday and the resignation of David Laws came up. Did I feel sympathy for him, William Crawley wanted to know. ‘Not one bit’ was my response. The man has a double first in economics from Cambridge, he’s a former vice-president and Managing Director at JP Morgan, and Head of US Dollar and Sterling Treasuries at Barclays de Zoete Wedd. You think he’s going to be short of a bob? Or that he’ll not continue to be a big Liberal Democrat wheel, just as Peter Mandelson continued to be a big Labour wheel after each of his several disgraces? I think not.
But I woke up this morning and realized David Laws isn’t the problem, it’s George Osborne. Laws is just a distant figure but I have Osborne in my bedroom. All over it. Or at least all over the walls, in the form of Osborne and Little wallpaper. Creepy. More galling is the fact that by buying that wallpaper, I’ve put money into the pocket of a vastly rich twerp who’s married to the daughter of Lord Howell of Guildford and is getting ready to hammer the life out of public service provision and hard-working wage-earners in Britain.
All of which should drive any right-thinking person on the neighbouring island towards Labour. Until, that is, they hear the news that the champion of the common man, the working-class bruiser who gave credibility to Tony Blair’s Oxbridge cabinet, the man who responds to an egg on the chest with a punch in the face, has just been offered and greedily accepted a place in the House of Lords. It’s true what they say – you couldn’t make it up.