“Well, It Had To Come, Didn’t It…?”

Well, it did, didn’t it?  Ever since Tony Blair resigned from New Labour – having been constantly nudged by Gordon Brown – the party has been in a state of flux and it was inevitable that some kind of collapse was on the cards.

 ”New” Labour was Tony’s creation, not a bad one considering that when he took over, the Labour Party was unelectable.  And the “new” political philosophy did rather appeal to the middle classes after the shambolic, break–down efforts of the collapsing Conservative machine, after Thatcher was booted out – especially since Tony set-to with his Labour love affair with British Business, and privatisation.

He did this, even though Thatcher’s wholesale transfer of our national assets such as Water, Gas, Electricity, British Steel, etc, etc, etc, were eventually transferred into greedy, grasping  private hands, which lost no time in raising prices that were invested fast into private pockets .  And Tony left them there…

 Later, improvements to our erstwhile national assets’ superstructure during Tony’s reign, had to be paid for by even higher prices.  I should have suspected something when, during his first week as Prime Minister, Tony invited Thatcher  around to Number 10…

However, ten years later, Gordon takes over.  Gone was the cheerful, toothy grin of Tony Blair’s presence on the political stage.  In its place we received Gordon Brown’s dour, sombre, “too busy for pleasantries” countenance. 

From the beginning, it is a fact that Gordon had not the aura of a Prime Minister.  Gordon Brown was a brilliant Chancellor who, for the sake of the Party,  should have been Tony’s, supportive, stalwart buddy.  But there was that  constant, nagging belief that he should have been chosen as the PM ten years earlier, not Tony.

Well, Gordon finally made it and moved into No.10.  But Gordon couldn’t take Tony’s place as the showman, the popular presence on the political stage…

And so it has been proved. Now, today, after the three-week debacle of MP’s expenses being exposed, comes the test of New Labour’s “popularity” – the European and County Council Elections…

The British public have very short memories and - in spite of the Thatcher years, and the Major years, and the Hague years, and all the other short-lived Conservative Leader years – I garauntee there will be a Conservative landslide all over the country.  I believe it will be exactly the same come the General Election…

Then listen to the howls of anguish from protest and floating voters who had decided that “Labour needs a lesson…”

And – believe you me – the howls will come as Tory “cut this” and “cut that” merchants go to work…

Ah, well…

“Here Comes Summer…”

“Summertime, and the living is easy…”   So go the words of one of my favourite Gershwin melodies.  

 It was only ten days ago that I was writing about the  British winter and its upstart sudden snowfalls that  that brought about the decision to close all our schools and most of our offices.  

 And allowed families to have a little funtime together…

But wait.  We’ve drifted into the month of  June, and British Summertime has officially begun.  Here we are, well into a swift and typical British climatic swaparound, wherein the sun is hot, and the TV doctors busy warning us all that if you intend to stay outside today, lapping up the ultra-violet rays, then dive into a pot of sun cream – preferably about Factor Hundred and Thirty – and don’t stay out in this vicious sunshine for too long.

A couple of weeks ago, youngsters were wrapped in thick anoraks against the biting cold of Arctic winter.  Today, they are seeking the derelict quarries that are filled with maybe twenty feet or more of icy waters in which to dive and play around and cool themselves down.

Trouble is: these kids take no regard of the “Danger” notices posted around the perimeters of these artificial lakes, and  they can be overcome by the chilling effects of hypothermia – says me, who used to do exactly the same things myself as a youngster.   Nevertheless, the danger is there, as was proved by the recovery of a fifteen-year-old’s body this morning.  The lad disappeared after swimming in a quarry yesterday and police divers finally discovered his drowned body this morning…

Why do there have to be “seasonal” tragedies?  How often do we have the Christmastime plane crash; the springtime paraglider hurtling at fifty-miles-an-hour into the green sward of some distant meadow as its engine fails; the summer’s day tragedy at the beach as some young child is swept out to sea by currents not noticed by inattentive parents; the autumn farm accident as a farmhand is trapped under a tractor or threshing machine; the winter pile-ups on the motorways as drivers ignore the icy conditions.

I suppose it’s because we are the human race and we all know how fallible the human race is.

But, never mind.  We seem to make progress in spite of our failings – well, in technology, anyway.   I wonder if technology will ever improve the workings of the human spirit?  Maybe one day we will all be technologised into robots where the failings of the flesh and spirit won’t matter…

Who knows..?

Who cares…?