Gordon Talks

Yesterday The Guardian carried an interview with Gordon Brown that was perhaps the most sycophantic bag of trash it has ever been my misfortune to violate my eyes with. Here's some examples for you, dear reader. Be warned, you're going to need a strong stomach:

Gordon Brown meets me in the garden of No 10, and looks like a man without a care in the world. His skin is peachy and fresh.

Peachy and fresh? That sound more like the description of a shower gel! And how does the writer know that his skin is peachy? Did she sniff it? Did she stroke it? 

And Gordon Brown not having a care in the world is a bad fucking thing. He should be worrying 24/7 about how he can rescue this country from the travesty he has made it into. Still, at least he has nice hair:

His stripy, liquorice allsort hair is shiny.

In other words, he has managed to wash his hair, and the colour of his hair is much like the hair of other aging men - it is black, going on grey. 

He was a talented sportsman before he lost the sight in his left eye in a rugby match, and still moves around with astonishing speed, despite an expanding paunch pushing at the buttons of his thick cotton shirt.

I don't really care that the Prime Minister was once a good sportsman. He was also once not Prime Minister, and I for one felt far happier when that was the case. But this talk of Brown moving at an astonishing speed - is he the fucking Flash or something? And what was the writer expecting? Him to be moving around like a broken man? The equivalent of the warped Davros in his wheelchair?

But the real content of the interview is, as LFAT points out, the wonderful self-delusion of our Prime Minister. I'd not going to point the various examples of the ludicrous crap that spews from his mouth - go to the article and find your own example, if you like. But the passage about about Gordon's views on living in Downing Street are just, plain insane:

And this is in spite of doubts, which he talks about, quietly. "To be honest, you could walk away from all of this tomorrow." (He often says "you" to distance himself from the intended "I".) "I'm not interested in what accompanies being in power. It wouldn't worry me if I never returned to any of those places - Downing Street, Chequers. That would not worry me at all. And it would probably be good for my children." 

The emphasis is mine. 

Basically, Brown doesn't care about the trappings of office. Leaving Downing Street would be better for his kids. And he could (although he puts it in the second person rather than the first) happily walk away from it all tomorrow. So you know what, Gordon? Do it. Resign. Walk away from it all. If you are too scared to resign, then call an election. We'll do it for you. Have faith in the electorate. We'll boot you from office, and make things easier for you and your family.

But this is the tragedy of Gordon Brown. Against common sense, the wishes of the people and all the available evidence, he believes he is the only person who can rescue the country from a crisis that he was instrumental in creating. He makes himself miserable by not facing up to the simple, and - for him - devastating truth. That he should just move on. For the good of everyone.