Mr Eugenides

Mr E elsewhere: Too much heaven on their minds

2008-05-19T23:33:00.004+01:00

At Jewcy: on the many Jesuses of Russia's doomsday cults.

Most of these, like Pyotr Kuznetsov's True Russian Orthodox Church, have obvious roots in the established state religion. Others are more esoteric, from the Georgian mystic in Lithuania, Lena Lolisvili, who prays to God to energize toilet paper that she then wraps around her patients to "heal" them, to Grigory Grabovoi's "DRUGG" ["friend"] Party, which claimed to be able to resurrect the children killed in the Beslan massacre - for a fee, naturally.

Grabovoi's audacious tilt at the Russian presidency had to be shelved, sadly, when he was imprisoned for fraud, which was a shame; his first act upon assuming the reins of power would have been to "immediately issue a law prohibiting to die," which I would have liked to see. But the overlap between charlatanism and politics remains; a small group in Novgorod who style themselves the "Rus' Resurrecting" sect worship an icon of Vladimir Putin...

Monday Roundups

2008-05-19T18:46:00.001+01:00

The Scottish Blogging Roundup is here and the weekly Britblog Roundup at the Very British Dude's place.

John McCain does Saturday Night Live...

2008-05-19T17:34:00.001+01:00

I wonder how many of our political leaders would have the guts to do this. (h/t: RCP)

"No right to sit in Holyrood"

2008-05-18T10:50:00.010+01:00

This is extraordinary.

The expert appointed to investigate last year's Scottish Parliament election fiasco has said some MSPs may have no right to sit at Holyrood.

Elections watchdog Ron Gould revealed he is "not comfortable" with the view that all 129 MSPs elected last year actually received more votes than their opponents. He blames the farce in which more than 140,000 ballots were spoiled. [...]

In Edinburgh East, there were 2,521 spoiled ballot papers. The winning majority, gained by SNP candidate Kenny MacAskill, was only 1,382. In Livingston, the SNP candidate Angela Constance won by 870 seats but there were 1,634 spoiled ballots.

In Linlithgow, Labour candidate Mary Mulligan won by 1,150 votes, but there were 1,722 spoiled papers. In Dunfermline West, Lib Dem Jim Tolson won by 476 votes – far fewer than the 757 spoiled papers.

Looks like we're going to have to let in election observers from the Council of Europe next time. What a complete clusterfuck.

That said, though, it wouldn't be a great shock to discover that there are people sitting as MSPs who shouldn't be there. Here are six to be getting on with: if they were all to fall down a giant hole tomorrow, I defy anyone to claim that the public life of Scotland would be diminished even one iota.

Clockwise: Jamieson, Baillie, Curran, Sturgeon, Finnie, MacAskill. Down a hole, cement it over. Only way.

Factchecking Gordon

2008-05-18T10:33:00.002+01:00

Curious:

"If anyone had said 50 years ago that the people of our world would achieve black civil rights, tear down the Berlin Wall, end apartheid, no one would have believed it."

I should say not. The Berlin Wall was only built 47 years ago.

"Where could a national conversation with such a man begin?"

2008-05-17T10:05:00.006+01:00

Once again, Matthew Parris in cracking form:

We expect politicians to lie. We don’t like it but we understand it. Caught between the world as it is and the world politicians keep promising to make for us, we do see what drives them to misrepresent the world, rewrite the promise, or both.

Conversation between the public and our politicians is eased by the half-intended, half-acknowledged wink. And if in their kiss-and-tell diaries politicians later paint a picture of private sniggers and sneaky lies, it’s almost reassuring. At least it suggests that if the covers come off we’d all agree on what we see. When a man blushes, something is shared.

But a cold, angry repudiation of the evidence itself, a look that suggests a different prism, a different picture; a strange, knotted, jaw-clenching, fact-defying, interview-wrecking rejection of what the rest of us see plain as daylight . . . this disturbs more deeply than everyday mendacity ever can. Where could a national conversation with such a man begin?

Parris, for me, is the best newspaper columnist writing in Britain today: by turns ascerbic yet generous, funny and insightful, and always - even when I disagree with him - wise. Not for him the paeans of praise for Brown that echoed round the media last summer: he was in on the ground floor when it came to suspicion and doubt of the new PM.

I've recently finished reading his superb autobiography Chance Witness, and thoroughly recommend it* to anyone who enjoys his writing - it is peppered with excerpts from his finer columns, and vivid pen-portraits of people like Thatcher, Portillo, Chris Patten and John Major - and wants a first-hand account of working for the Lady at the height of her success. It's a strange book, full of self-deprecation, telling insights, some great jokes, and frustratingly opaque references to Tory MPs who liked to be led around rooms in spiked collars.

Some people hated it when it was published. I think it's the best political autobiography I've read.

* Buying through the link normally drops pennies into my Amazon account, but given that it's available from the site for £0.01, a 5% commission is clearly not my motive for recommending the book. Go to a second hand bookshop and buy it there, if you prefer, or borrow a copy.

You're fucked!

2008-05-15T18:43:00.010+01:00

I must confess that I dismissed this as a wind-up, but apparently not:

The prime minister is being urged to consider taking part in an Apprentice-style show for aspiring young politicians.

The idea came to light because Caroline Flint wasn't the only minister attending cabinet yesterday who let the photographers catch a glimpse of her paperwork. [Hazel] Blears, the communities secretary, had an email on display, as you can see here.

The email, which was sent by youth worker Margaret McCabe to Blears' special adviser, mentioned a proposal for a political talent show for an "Apprentice meets Maria/Strictly Come Dancing audience". A meeting to discuss the idea with the BBC is apparently due to take place later this month.

"Please, please let all concerned know that this is not stunt TV," McCabe wrote.

"It is a golden opportunity for the PM to gather a youth manifesto and become more popular than Alan Sugar (along with certain cabinet colleagues!).

Words fail me. Every time you try to satirise this shower of dolts and dimwits, they promptly go and raise the bar again. But it may surprise you to know that I am all in favour of this, as ludicrous it may sound. In fact, I'm more than just OK with it; I desperately want to see this on TV. Please, please make this happen. An expectant public demands it. This would instantly become must-watch television; truly water-cooler stuff.

Needless to say, though, my version would be slightly different. Instead of inviting spotty teenagers to compete for Gordo's affections, the contestants should be the Cabinet themselves. Each episode, Gordon would set them a wacky task to complete: head up a small business for a week without running it into the ground, get through a five-minute interview answering questions truthfully, return a wallet to a random member of the public without taking all the money in it - that sort of thing. Much hilarity would ensue as our contestants quickly huddled into rival factions, bitched about each other and undermined the other team's position. Of course, they would fail miserably at all these tasks, because they're incompetent liars, but that's why it would be such good TV, see?

At the end of the week, they'd all get called into No.10, where Gordon picks one unfortunate clown to exit the show. "You're fucked", he would intone for the cameras, and pull a large comedy lever, whereupon a trap door would open and the unlucky fuckee - the risible Darling, perhaps, or Hazel herself - would plummet into a shit-filled pit of tarantulas, say, or a pit of tarantulas into which shit would then be poured (this is all still at the development stage), and meet a venomous, gurgling and hopefully lingering death.

Imagine the drama of the final episode! Miliband and Balls stand, trembling, in front of their monocular boss. All week the tabloids have been abuzz with speculation; Michael White and Polly Toynbee have been on the GMTV sofa debating the merits of the two final contestants. And, naturally, both endings have been filmed to prevent the identity of the fuckee being leaked in advance. A nation holds its collective breath as the two rivals wait for the fateful judgement.

And then Cyclops shakes his head ruefully and fixes Balls in his unnerving stare. "You're fucked", he says for the last time, and pulls the lever, and down Ed tumbles - yes, let's have some sort of slide, just to spin the moment out a bit longer - to a richly deserved arachno-faecal doom. BAFTA here we come!

Only problem; at the end of the series, there'd still be two of the cunts left. Now, I wonder if I can interest Bravo in "When Celebrity Parachutes Go Wrong"?...

Brown gets something right, for once

2008-05-14T13:17:00.005+01:00

Nice to see Dave wishing Rangers well at PMQs today, and using the occasion to take a swipe at John "Rambo" Reid, who is now the chairman of Celtic, much to the voluble displeasure of some of their supporters. Even I would not have wished such a fate on them...

And a relief to Rangers fans, too, that Gordon Brown will not be attending tonight's UEFA Cup final in Manchester - he is, famously, a curse on every team he goes along to support...

UPDATE: Even the good wishes were enough to sink 'em...

Raising the personal allowance - now there's an idea!

2008-05-14T10:08:00.003+01:00

Belatedly, Darling acts:

I believe that a rebate scheme would be complex and expensive to administer. It would also take time to set up and changes to the eligibility for tax credits could not be introduced this year. [...]

Mr Speaker, raising the personal allowance is simpler than other solutions.

It retains the benefit of a simpler tax system and it also allows basic rate taxpayers to see the benefits as soon as possible, and for the whole of this financial year.

Some of us have been saying this for a decade, you badger-browed bastard. So why do you introduce the "simpler" solution as a short-term panic measure, but retain the "complex and expensive" tax credit scheme in the long run?

If anything, shouldn't it be precisely the other way round?

"Looks like we've overdone it with the sherry"

2008-05-13T10:13:00.004+01:00

Reminiscent of the old Castlemaine XXXX ad (below), this story from Oz:

A driver has "shocked and appalled" police after he stared them "blankly" when they caught him with a seatbelt around his slab of beer - but not on the five-year-old boy sitting next to it.

Constable Wayne Burnett said he was "shocked and appalled" when he pulled over the Holden Commodore on the Ross Highway south of Alice Springs on the weekend. [...] "He didn't get it," Const Burnett said. "I asked him about the fact the child was unrestrained and the beer was, and he said he didn't know anything about it."

Const Burnett said there were five people in the car, including the child, along with the 30 pack of beer.

"There were four adults in the car, two in the front seat and two in the back seats and in between those adults there was the carton of beer strapped in with the belt," he said. "The child was sitting in the lump in the centre, unrestrained."

A certain warped magnificence in that.

Compulsory breath tests in bars

2008-05-13T08:18:00.002+01:00

I'm amazed none of the something-must-be-done brigade have thought of this yet:

France is to introduce compulsory breathalyser tests in late-night bars and clubs as part of a new effort to cut down on road deaths.

The announcement by the environment minister Jean-Louis Borloo came after a particularly bloody holiday weekend on the roads with 19 people killed.

"I am going to introduce a decree in cabinet under which all drink outlets that stay open till two in the morning will have compulsory electronic breath-tests, so that everyone can test his own situation as he leaves," Mr Borloo said yesterday.

I wouldn't be at all surprised if the Department of Health's one copy of the Telegraph is being passed around admiringly this morning.

Mr E elsewhere: Cameron and Obama

2008-05-13T08:11:00.000+01:00

At Jewcy: on those recurring comparisons between Brown and Clinton, Cameron and Obama.

2008-05-12T18:04:00.002+01:00

I direct you, as always on a Monday, to the Britblog Roundup and the Scottish Blogs Roundup.

Another day gone, another bottle lost

2008-05-12T12:29:00.006+01:00

This miserable man just gets more jelly-boned by the day:

Gordon Brown will not receive the Dalai Lama in Downing Street in an effort to avoid confrontation with China over Tibet, The Times has learnt.

The Prime Minister will, instead, see the Tibetan spiritual leader in Lambeth Palace, home of the Archbishop of Canterbury, enabling him to claim to the Chinese that he is receiving the Dalai Lama in a spiritual rather than political capacity. [...]

Both Tony Blair and John Major saw the Dalai Lama in Downing Street. Angela Merkel became the first German head of state [sic] to meet him last September, while President Bush received him at the White House and presented him with the Congressional Gold Medal.

It's almost as artless as the farcical "compromise" with the Olympic torch, which just ended up making Gordon - and us - look daft. Why does this man continually insist on shooting himself in the foot in quite such a comedy fashion? After so many daft cock-ups, the narrative is now all about where the next custard pie is coming from, not about policy - let alone the poor bloody Tibetans.

Perhaps he should welcome the Dalai Lama to Downing Street but refuse to touch him.

Hillary's Downfall

2008-05-12T09:21:00.001+01:00

Deeply indebted to Brian Monteith for this extreme childishness. The writer would, I suspect, make a top swearblogger.

An oldie but goldie...

2008-05-11T21:35:00.002+01:00

Give her credit: she knew, right for the start...

Gordon and Wendy: my money's on Cyclops

2008-05-08T13:03:00.004+01:00

Well, this isn't going too well, is it?

Labour's implosion began just after midday in the Commons, where MPs had gathered for Prime Minister's Questions. Already facing a rough ride after the party's meltdown in local elections last week, Mr Brown was quizzed by David Cameron, the Tory leader, on Ms Alexander's call for an early referendum on Scottish independence.

But instead of backing her, Mr Brown said the situation should be reviewed when the Calman commission on devolution had reported. And, in an even more surprising sign of a party in chaos, he appeared to deny that she had even called for a referendum.

When the Tory leader asked Mr Brown if he agreed with Ms Alexander that a referendum should be held "now", the Prime Minister replied: "That is not what she has said."

Mr Cameron retorted: "I think you are losing touch with reality."

That happened long ago. And, as I said on Tuesday, I'm not convinced that Wendy's actually wrong; rather than running from this issue, maybe the opposition parties could actually call the SNP's bluff. It would certainly take independence off the table for a generation - if it was defeated, that is. So it's a gamble, certainly; but are we really better off waiting until the fight is being conducted on the separatists' terms, and at a time of their choosing?

But this latest fiasco is entirely of Labour's own making - in fact, entirely of Wendy's own making; what in sport they call an unforced error. What did she think was going to happen? Brown was just going to roll over? As shit-fingered as he is, that was never likely. No, whatever the rights and wrongs on the policy question, it's a massive tactical blunder to have tried to railroad the Prime Minister into backing her U-turn, because now she's fucked, he's fucked, and they're all fucked.

The capacity of this government and its acolytes in the North for serially screwing things up is hilarious to watch. Already on its knees, it's an open question how many more of these self-inflicted wounds it can take before it expires altogether. But this is the break-up of the United Kingdom we're talking about; these pathetic internecine squabbles have consequences that will reverberate long after Brown and Alexander have returned to a richly deserved obscurity.

The fragrant Wendy has made a right balls-up of this entire affair, and politicians and columnists are now openly calling for her head. We may be very close to a tipping point for her "leadership", such as it is, and once that is reached, not even her biggest fan in the blogosphere will be able to save her.

Mr E elsewhere: Vlad and Alina

2008-05-07T23:42:00.003+01:00

At Jewcy: the curious case of Vladimir Putin and the bendy gymnast, and what it tells us about the state of press freedom in Russia on the day he steps down.

Lesser of two evils

2008-05-07T12:46:00.002+01:00

Austrian cellar owner Josef Fritzl is merely misunderstood, it emerges:

Fritzl, 73, claimed that media coverage was “unfair” and “entirely one-dimensional”, given the fact that he did not kill his daughter and the children he produced with her during 24 years of sexual abuse in a subterranean bunker in Amstetten.

“I am no monster,” Fritzl said though his lawyer Rudolf Mayer, according to the German tabloid newspaper Bild.

“I could have killed all of them, and no one would have known. No one would have ever found about it.”

Extraordinary.

Gordon: Failure To Launch

2008-05-06T22:10:00.006+01:00

A howl of rage from Polly to bring glee to the hearts of all right-thinking men...

It is Labour that has become the stupid party - dumb, directionless, depressing. [...] Labour has nothing to say and no territory to call its own. [...]

There is only one option - to start all over again, scorched earth. Do what Labour did in 1994 or what Cameron did in 2005. Begin by rooting out everything that has made Labour's reputation toxic to voters - and rediscover everything that made Labour worth voting for. [...]

Look at Labour successes - the minimum wage, child poverty, children's centres, aid for Africa, free museums, NHS waiting lists, new health centres and schools well-stocked and well-staffed after those 18 miserable drought years of Thatcherism - there is much to be proud of. But all these were promises devised in the resurgent days before 1997. Has Labour still the appetite for anything as radical as its own first term? Can it recapture that insurgent spirit? If not, why would anyone vote them back in?

Why indeed? But then again, that's the question some of us have been asking for years now. What, in the end, was the point?

New Labour achieved a big tent, all right; it got people like myself and Justin, to take a random example, agreeing on almost as much as we disagreed on. Yes, of course we have radically different views of how society's problems should be solved; when there is a Tory government, our short-lived alliance, of sorts - our coalition of the willing, if you will - will quite possibly, probably, be over. But for now, here we stand; in opposition to the wholesale soiling of our political system, of cash for honours and policies for sale to the highest bidder, of the acceptance of mendacity as a constant in our political equation, of the steady erosion of civil liberties in the name of The War Against Terror, of soundbite politics, of compliance in torture, of the deliberate distortion and destruction of language to the twisted purposes of politicians who can't see beyond the nearest Daily Mail headline.

To which I would add the grotesque waste of public money on public services that can absorb huge geysers of cash with nought but the barest improvements in service standards; the continued fleecing of the taxpayer to finance harebrained PFI schemes, national ID, NHS and DNA databases at a cost of tens of billions, and hollow initiative after bungled relaunch after pointless taskforce after wasteful quango. Look again at Polly's list of "successes". Minimum wage? Then why are working families being fucked by the self-same government? The NHS? Speak to Crippen. Aid for Africa? Free museums? I mean, what?

Maybe the Tories will be just as bad. I don't think they will be - I don't think they can be - because I'm ideologically and tribally predisposed to agree with much of what they say; I suspect most of the left-wing critics of this government, by contrast, think that in the short term they might even be better, but in the medium term will prove to be worse - but that the intervening four or five years will give Labour time to regain its purpose, whatever that may be. Well, the proof will be along soon enough.

As for poor Pol, where to start? Imagine the despair, so raw you can almost taste it. Imagine the sense of crushing disappointment. For years now, she has waited for her prince to come - her dashing Norse warrior, who will sweep away all the effete detritus of the Blair years and unload a torrent of resources into child poverty and public services. Night after night she has left the red light on for him; lying in the bed in her Agent Provocateur lingerie, maybe some crotchless pants and a peephole bra, striking an uncomfortable pose lest he come charging through the door at any moment to sweep her up in his powerful arms.

And then, after what seemed like years, suddenly there he is; his chunky body framed by the doorwell, his Presbyterian profile silhouetted in the crimson glow. Here, she thinks, is her Viking! Quickly, silently, she enfolds him, gorging on his lengthy pledges, swallowing his promises, almost gagging on the heady, musky scent of true, bestial socialism unleashed after so long under wraps. There doesn't seem to be quite as much as he had promised, sure, but no matter; isn't there plenty of goodness in those heavy, swinging sacs of his, so engorged with cash that they seem about to burst? It's not all about presentation, you know. Never mind the quality; feel the width.

And now, at last, her hero is ready to spend, and spend big. The signs are unmistakeable; the guttural Scottish grunts, the trademark reddening of the face, the famous dropped jaw working overtime. Gordon shuts his one good eye and starts bellowing that, after so many years, he is ready to deliver. "Yes!" mumbles Polly through a mouthful (or perhaps half-mouthful) of Fife cock. "Deliver, as you have promised for so long that you would! Spend! Spend on me as if it's someone else's to pay for!"

And she waits and waits, expecting at any moment the jet of warm public spending to hit the back of her throat in a salty gush; and still it doesn't come. No, she thinks, this can't be right; all he needs is to be emboldened and empurplened further. And so she redoubles her efforts, sucking hungrily on his red-veined Havana like a desperate asthmatic wheezing on a Ventolin; and still he can't deliver, and she can see his good eye misting over with rage and disappointment, and now she can feel the tears in her eyes too; and still she refuses to give up, but he's growing limp and soft now, and she realises that the critics were right; that he was not the man she thought he was, but the man we thought he was; that he is a political soft-cock, who talks credulous believers like you into the boudoir and then, at the moment of maximum opportunity, cannot deliver, because he is a miserable failure who cannot even fulfil the basic functions expected of him by those who put their laughably misplaced faith in him for all those years. The Erection That Never Was.

What is left, finally, but for him to grab his things and, with a mumbled, shamefaced apology, to leave and never dare to show his face again? How long must this embarrassed silence now last? There's the door, Gordon. Don't worry; we won't tell.

Brown: no dummy

2008-05-06T13:55:00.002+01:00

You could almost feel sorry for him...

Madame Tussauds has decided against having a Gordon Brown waxwork amongst its world leaders - he dithered over whether to sit for its sculptors and they got fed up waiting for a reply.

"Since then we have had no response and, reflecting the climate after the Government's performance in the recent local elections, our guests have become decidedly split about whether we should feature Mr Brown at all," general manager Edward Fuller said.

Could they not stick him in the Chamber of Horrors?

UPDATE: Madame Tussauds are having an election to decide if GB will make it in. Go and vote.

Monbiot today

2008-05-06T12:40:00.000+01:00

Yes, that's right.

Airships.

Wendy: "Bring it on!" (To Mr Salmond, that is, not Mr E)

2008-05-06T12:06:00.003+01:00

I rather admire this:

Wendy Alexander, the Scottish Labour leader, announced her backing for a "Yes or No" vote on independence.
The U-turn was a further blow to the authority of the embattled Prime Minister who was not informed of Ms Alexander's announcement. It also caused ruptures in Labour north and south of the Border with Westminster sources aghast at her move. […]
Ms Alexander, the sister of Douglas Alexander, the International Development Secretary, said there had been extensive discussion on the issue within Labour, but refused to reveal if her announcement had been cleared by Mr Brown.
A senior Whitehall aide said the Prime Minister had not been told, stating: "This is a total freelance operation."

There are two elements to this story worthy of note. The first is the substantive question; does “calling Salmond’s bluff” on an independence referendum make it more or less likely that the SNP will be able to win such a referendum, and the second is the “process story”; what this episode says about Gordon’s dwindling political capital.

Let’s take the first one first. This is not, perhaps, quite as dramatic a U-turn as it may at first seem. Labour has always paid lip service to the principle of self-determination for Scots; its opposition to a referendum on independence usually founded on the mantra that Scots are more interested in bread and butter issues than arcane constitutional discussions.

I imagine that’s more true today than ever, but it was always going to be difficult, and potentially politically damaging, for Labour to oppose an independence referendum that was a clear manifesto pledge of the winning party – particularly one held round about the time of the next election. Also, the delectable Wendy has left herself plenty of wiggle room on the technicalities. All in all, the thinking seems to be; don’t give Salmond time to bed himself in further and don’t give him time to make mischief with Westminster for another 2 years.

There’s one additional factor that needs to be borne in mind. 2010 could well, on current trends, see Cameron’s Tories go into the election as favourites to form the next government. This is pretty much the Tartanissimo’s dream scenario. The Conservatives may not be the party that closed Ravenscraig and brought in the poll tax, but they are still flatlining in Scotland; although recent polls suggest some welcome upward movement, we’re talking 20%, not 42%. What better bogeyman to threaten the voters with? Only independence can save you from the Tories, the SNP will say; and they’ll be right. (An independent Scotland would also embed Tory government in England for a couple of elections after that, in all probability, but that’s another matter.)

For a nationalist party trying to win over a left-of-centre electorate, that’s a big carrot – or stick, depending on your point of view. So better, from the Unionist point of view, to try and get this out of the way now; to win a referendum for the No side and put it to bed for another 20 years. It’s a high stakes gamble, but there’s been precious little fresh thinking from Labour (or any of the other opposition parties) over the last 12 months. If they’re now telling Eck to shit or get off the pot, so much the better.

The second element in all this is also the one the Telegraph, understandably, have focused on; what it tells us about Gordon’s authority that one of his “closest allies” can defy him thus. What it tells us, in brief, is that he’s got fuck all.

Make no mistake, Wendy is more than just a close ally; in the old days, neither her nor her brother would have dared to fart without emailing No.11 first to check which direction to unload in. These people are fully paid-up members of the Brown supremacy. If they’re going freelance, it’s another sign that Gordon’s iron grip over Scottish Labour, like his grasp on just about everything else, is fast beginning to loosen. With even Polly now declaring that only a scorched-earth policy can save "stupid" Labour now - "dumb, directionless, depressing" - we may, despite my understandable caution, be in the death throes of the Labour government. Let them be as protracted as the death-rattle of the Major government that preceded it.

Back!

2008-05-05T15:53:00.000+01:00

And suitably knackered. Many thanks to all who voted for Trixy to join me for that dirty weekend. Did she? Reader, that will have to be our secret. Though you'll notice she's not blogged since Friday afternoon.

While I resummon my strength, I direct you to the Britblog and Scottish blog roundups. And then I'll think of something to write about. Were Labour not spinning 200 seats as the nightmare scenario?...

2008-05-01T12:19:00.004+01:00

Blogging will be very light over the next couple of days, I'm afraid; I am off to a wedding in Ireland, although it may yet turn into a dirty weekend if I can persuade Trixy to join me (I reckon she's pretty close to saying yes - if she mysteriously stops blogging tomorrow, you'll know my charm has worked). (UPDATE: Joy of joys, she's letting her readers decide - go and vote!)

So I'll wish you a good weekend and see you on Monday morning, when I will hopefully be liveblogging as Gordon Brown stands on the cliff at Beachy Head, threatening to jump.