"...like a whore in a brothel..."

Young “Hug a Husky” Cameron sells his party further down the river for a couple of extra votes from the kind of people who probably vote Liberal owing to their utter inability to commit to one of the two parties capable of winning power. And the fact that they teach Geography in the local comprehensive and have leather patches on the arms of their tweed jackets.

Abandoning the fundamental principles of the Conservative party, Cameron announces that poverty is relative, not absolute. Which, as all right thinking people know, is complete and total arse. Poverty is relative. It is the likes of that monkey cunt Polly Toynbee. And as Tories we would always ignore her. Oh, wait, not anymore…

Let’s go back to fundamentals – we are Conservatives, we believe in equality of opportunity, not outcome. The latter idea is a socialist idea, the opposite of what a Conservative should believe in. Absolute poverty is a moral disgrace, relative poverty is not. Relative poverty is a by product of a competitive society. Competitive societies do well, those that are not competitive, like the Soviet Union, fold under the weight of their own self-deception and hypocrisy.

Put simply, if everyone in society earns a million, the person on £999,999 is not poor. Not when compared to the people of Darfur. They are actually quite prosperous. They may be poor relative to their neighbours, but not compared to those who live in actual poverty. And yes, this is a theoretical argument, but actually any debate about relative and absolute poverty has to be theoretical.

This is another shameless headline grab, Cameron again showing himself to be a touchy-feely, lovable wee scamp who you are happy to vote for. For those who like their politics transparently vacuous, Cameron must be a dream come true. For those who prefer some sort of ideological commitment or beliefs behind their politicians, Cameron represents the slow, lingering death of politics in this country.

Cameron would probably allow a group of drunken sailors to rape his own grandmother in order to gain a bit more of the central ground. He is like Blair magnified tenfold – everything is about the pursuit of power, everything is about appearing non-descript and non-threatening. Political principle has not only been abandoned, it has been clubbed to death like a baby seal and buried in a shallow grave somewhere. He sits in CCHQ, his legs spread, like a whore in a brothel, waiting to sell himself for any one who offers a vote.

UKIP beckons.