*Pretty* Polly

As advertised on the Kitchen, last night saw the frankly farcical sight of Polly Toynbee addressing the Conservative Bow Group. Yep, that’s right – the arch Social Democrat (or socialist, if you will), the Brown lover, the pie in the sky leftie that is Polly Toynbee addressed a Conservative meeting last night. It would be surreal, if it wasn’t so tragic.

I was there, along with DK, Trixy and Jackart. Sat in the corner of Committee Room Six in the Commons. To say there was more than a little hostility from our corner towards the *esteemed* speaker would be an understatement. But that’s not to say that it was simply anger we were directing at her. There was also quite a bit of pointing and laughing.

I was going to do a detailed analysis and critique of what Toynbee had to say, and her answers to the questions put to her, but I won’t. Simply because that would take too long, because, frankly, everything she said was wrong. Instead, I’ll just make a couple of points about some of the more egregiously crappy things that she said.

Firstly, Polly talked about redistribution of wealth and evening out the differences in society. She cited the Scandinavian example(s), where the consultant in a hospital earns a similar amount to the person cleaning the floors. Hmmmm…. Well, I don’t support redistribution of wealth, I think it is wrong to punish people for being successful and prosperous. But actually it is more fundamental than that. The consultant in the hospital who is going to operate on someone’s brain frankly should earn a hell of a lot more than the person wiping up shit in the corridor. He has more specialist skills and he has a far higher pressure job than the cleaner mopping up outside the operating theatre. What is wrong with rewarding people for doing a technical, specialist jobs? Can you really, really claim that the work done by the cleaner is as challenging and difficult as the work done by the consultant? And worth as much? Because if you can, you are a total twat.

Also, Polly claimed that people’s fear of tax rises was based around a fear of losing CEOs, as has occurred in her beloved Scandinavia. Erm, no, Polly. I couldn’t give a flying fuck where CEOs live. They can reside on the arsing moon for all I care. My dislike of tax rises is more based on my fear of the government wasting even more of my hard earned money on crap policies and crap schemes. And I don’t think I am alone in this – witness the Tory victory in 1992 General Election after the Labour party revealed their tax and spend plans. If the government cannot efficiently use the tax revenue they currently raise, then why on earth would anyone want to give them more money to waste?

And there is something very interesting about the way in which Polly views society and the success of individuals within that society. It seems to be purely based on earnings. The problem seems to be that the highest earners net so much more than the lowest earners. Success is based on how much money you earn. Well, personally, I rate success in life on more than just salary. Sure, I earn more than the median salary quoted by Pol last night. But not massive amounts more – and I certainly don’t earn anywhere near as much as those CEOs who seem to cause Polly such consternation. And you know what? I don’t care. Frankly those who act as CEOs deserve the money they earn. They pretty much give their lives to their jobs, and work exceptionally hard in high pressure roles that I know I could not cope with and have no interest in. They earn their money, Pol, and good luck to them.

Polly’s argument is not even based on class envy anymore – it is greed, it is based on jealously of salaries. Personally I am not greedy and vacuous enough to see money as the route of all happiness and success in their life. And I pity those who, as Polly seems to do, worship money above all else.

The end result of Toynbee’s ideas and policies is equality – everyone is equally miserable. Because as far as I can see she is not a Social Democrat, but rather a good ol’ table thumping, Red Flag waving, socialist. She proposes the great levelling – the government intervenes until everyone is earning the same. End any aspirations for individuals – no matter how hard you try, you will end up the same as the waster sat next to you on the train because, no matter what happens, no-one can be left behind.

Ultimately, as Jackart controversially noted last night, the socialist/social democratic countries may outstrip the UK in many of the parameters that Polly finds important, but they also beat us in another, unarguably bad, category.

They are better at suicide.

Go go Cameron!

The Guardian, believe it or not, is championing the success of Cameron in the polls. The results are as follows:

Conservatives 40% (+3)
Labour 32% (no change)
Lib Dems 18% (-4)

On the face of it good news for the Tories, bad news for the Lib Dems blah blah blah blah blah. No doubt you can find detailed analysis for these poll results, but it won't be here. Mainly because polls are often hugely inaccurate, but also because there is a real difference between how people would vote if they were in a polling booth today and what they tell a pollster. Nonetheless, I have a couple of points to make. Mainly based around these two paragraphs:

"Despite recent publicity about Conservative defections to Ukip, and fears inside the party that Mr Cameron's remodelling of Conservative policy could alienate traditional support on the right, only 14% of Tory supporters say they might back Ukip instead.

"Asked to name one or more other parties that they might support, Conservatives are much more likely to choose the Liberal Democrats or the Greens: 32% of Tories say they might vote Lib Dem and 19% say Green."

I'll declare my own bias with this - I am against Cameron, and whilst I have not defected to UKIP (yet) I have departed from the good ship Tory for the duration of Cameron's stewardship. But I would also would ask The Guardian to declare their bias - after all, the Cameronistas do appear to be embracing the values of The Guardian's Cunt in Chief. It helps them if Cameron's lurch towards the left appears popular, just as I will be looking for ways to prove that this success is built on unstable, and worryingly short-term, foundations.

See, the 14% of Tory voters who might defect to UKIP should be far more worrying to Cameron than the 32% who might go to the Lib Dems. The 32% are the classic floating voters - the Tories need to win some of those votes to boot Labour out of office, but they also need the 14% of those who may defect from the right. It is the latter who have kept the Tory party as the opposition in the dark days of 1997 and 2001 - to alienate them now might cost the party a General Election victory next time out, but also divide the party catastrohically - at a time when, mainly owing to the sterling work of Howard in the two years immediately prior to the 2005 General Election, the party is at it's most united since the late 1980's. The right of the party have stood by the Conservatives at time when it appeared the party was doomed to electoral oblivion - to lose that 14% now will cost the party dearly in the long term. The floating voters will float to and from the Tories - but lose the core votes, and the party is just a fragile alliance of everchanging centrists, who can collapse the party at any time they want.

There is a counter argument that says the wandering 14% from the right will always return to the Tories, and the fact that I have not gone the whole hog and defected to UKIP indicates that there is some validity in this idea(there is a post brewing in my head that explains exactly why I cannot make the full move to UKIP at the moment). But this does not change my fundamental worry about Cameron - yes, he has been successful, but at what price? I harp on and on and on about this, but there is no point in winning the next election if we are simply swapping one Nu-Labourite government for another Nu-Labourite government. 18 months ago I would have celebrated the above poll results - now, with the castrated version of the Tory party that Cameron leads, it fills me with despair. I see a Cameron victory as an extension of Blairism - another government with a surplus of *style* and a complete dearth of policy.

Picture the scene: CCHQ...

“David “Call me Dave” Cameron sits at a meeting of his elite Shadow Cabinet - ie Francis Maude, Tory Party Chairman (sorry, person) and Cheerleader in Chief, and George Osborne, Shadow Chancellor and Cameron’s Chief Bitch. They are planning and analysing Tory Party Strategy. Such as it is.

“So, Francis, my old chum,” said David, smiling smugly to himself, “How did Greg Clark’s announcement about Churchill and Ms Toynbee go?”

“Well,” said Francis, wincing slightly, “It is both good and bad news. The good news is that Ms Toynbee seems to be pleased with the announcement. The bad news is that there are one or two highly pissed off people. And some evidence that there are mass defections to UKIP.”

“So, the good news outweighs the bad then, what?” asked Dave, still smiling smugly.

“Well, no, not really. You may have won Ms Toynbee’s vote, but the chances are that she will still vote for Brown. And in trying to win her vote, you may well have lost thousands of other core votes.”

“Hmmm,” said Dave, as thoughtfully as anyone who has worked in marketing can, “We need to have some sort of definite gesture… policy, if you will, to show our commitment to eradicating poverty.”

Francis choked on his tea, a little drip of it coming through his nose.

“What, really? You want to announce a policy? Really?” In his head, Francis began repeating the phrase “thank you Jesus” over and over again.

Dave jumped to his feet and rushed over to the well used flip chart in the corner. He clicked the top of a pen and began to frantically write on the flip chart.

“So, so, let’s brainstorm… what… what constitutes a *policy*?” he asked, looking into the middle distance and thinking frantically. Francis was about to speak, but Dave interrupted him. “Crivens! I’ve got it! Let’s run an ad campaign!”

Francis rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Let’s run an ad campaign!”

Francis spoke through clenched teeth.

“David, an ad campaign does not constitute a policy.”

“Don’t be silly, old bean, of course it does,” beamed the smiling, ex-marketing fuckwit. “There is nothing more decisive than an ad campaign. Now, let us have an ad campaign that addresses the causes of poverty. Now, when I was poor, how did that happen?”

Francis looked at Dave startled.

“I’m sorry, what? Say that again?”

“When I was poor, how did that happen?”

“Dave, when have you ever been poor?”

“Oh there was a time at school when I could afford anything at the tuck shop!”

Francis resisted the temptation to get up and punch Cameron in his jowly face.

“David, not being able to afford a penny sweet when you were at school is not being poverty stricken.”

“On don’t be a silly, of course it is! Poverty is relative now!”

“Oh, yes, sorry, Dave, I forgot that you had abandoned one of the central beliefs of the Conservative party for no real reason.”

“It is alright, Francis, could happen to anyone,” muttered George. Dave shot him an angry glance, and George had to fight the temptation to burst into tears.

“So, how did I get myself into a terrible tizzy whereby I could not afford any tuck? I know! I spent too much money on jazz mags for the boys in the dorm!”

“Ok, so your ad campaign is going to focus on the dangers of buying too many wank mags?” sighed Francis.

“No, no, no… let us make it broader than that. A campaign focussed on the danger of overspending!” A vacant look drifted across Cameron’s puffy face. “Now, when I was overspending and got myself in that awful predicament, it was like this inner beast took over. So, let us personify this inner beast… let us give court some controversy - let us give us the inner beast a really rude name!”

Francis looked at Dave and for some reason the word “motherfucker” sprung to mind.

“I know!” shouted Dave suddenly, his shrill nasal whine piercing the awkward silence of the room. “Let us call the inner beast the inner tosser. Brilliant, what?”

Francis resisted the temptation to reply in the negative. He scribbled the word tosser on his legal pad, and started doodling idly next to it.

“Now, now, how do we personify this inner tosser? I know! He should look like David Dickinson! He looks like a tosser! Now, lets him get to play the tosser!”

“That might not happen,” said Francis wearily.

“Why not?” snapped Cameron.

“It may be difficult to sell the idea to Dickinson of appearing in an advert based on the fact that you think he is a tosser.” Fearing Dave was about to launch into another tantrum, Francis launched on. “But, of course, we can have someone who looks like Dickinson – orange tan, bad suit etc.”

“Spiffing!” shouted Dave, throwing his pen in the air and failing utterly to catch it. “I want the ads everywhere! A massive, national – no, international – campaign, warning of the dangers of listening to your inner tosser and spending too much money.”

“Erm,” said the quiet voice of the painfully shy George, “There may be a problem.

In spite of being a grown man with a highly important job George was still dressed in his school uniform. And was still Dave’s fag. And Dave turned on him, enraged, barking angrily:

“Yes boy? What is it?”

George looked terrified, but managed to stutter a reply.

“Well… well… erm… the problem it… we’ve over spent… we have no money… we are over £30 million in debt…”

“And?” growled Dave fiercely.

Boy George let out a little sob, and Francis decided it was time to intervene.

“I think what Georgie is trying to say is that the reception might not be good if we launch a campaign warning people about debt at the same time as we announce that we are millions of pounds in debt.”

Dave frowned.

“What do you mean by ‘the reception might not be good?’”

“Well, I would imagine there would be headlines pointing out our utter hypocrisy.”

Francis winced as he saw Dave’s eyes light up at the word “headlines”. Dave darted across the room to where a tatty bit of A4 hung on the wall with the words “It’s the headlines, stupid!” scrawled in Cameron’s illegible hand-writing.

“Excellent! Top hole, what!” He beamed. “If it gets us headlines, we go for it! Any publicity is good publicity!”

“Even if it shows us to be complete and total tossers?” asked Francis, losing the will to live.

“Of course! Right, we are agreed, we are going with the campaign. Jeeves – sorry, I mean George - grab my books and get the car ready to follow behind my bike. I’m off to pose with the wee nipper.”

Dave strode towards to door as George grabbed both his books and Dave’s and ran from the room. Just as he was going through the door, Dave turned to Francis, still smiling.
“Don’t worry, Francis, my old mucker, if we properly run out of money we can always sell the soul of the party.”

With that Dave left the room, slamming the door confidently behind him. Francis spoke to an empty room, his voice a haggard, wearied whisper.

“No, David, I think we sold the soul of the party a long time ago.”

He looked down at his pad of paper and saw that, next to the word tosser, he has doodled a perfect portrait of Cameron, replete with pudgy cheeks, terrible hair and his cheesy, shit-eating grin.”

The above is a work of fiction. I stress, it is not real. However, with the utter toss coming from Senior Tories at the moment, it is difficult not to conclude that the above is actually how they make was currently passes for Tory policy. Unless someone has spiked CCHQ’s water supply with LSD.

"...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.

Will Someone Please Tell Me...

…what the flying fuck is going on?

This story has left me in a state of simmering rage all day. The rage comes and goes in waves, moving between disbelief and blind, irate anger. It is the sort of thing that makes me wonder why I am a Tory – why I give any money whatsoever to Cameron and the gaggle of wankers who surround him. It is fair to say that I have not been that impressed with Cameron et al for a while, as I have mentioned, but this is the worst one yet. In so many ways, this is the final straw.

You see, according to that story, the Conservative Party shouldn’t look to the political ideals of Winston Churchill. We shouldn’t look to the political beliefs of one of our most successful Prime Ministers. Of the man who led the nation to victory in World War Two. Of the man voted the Greatest Briton.

Oh no, not at all.

Instead, we should have a new ideological leader. And who should this be? None other than Polly cunting Toynbee.

That’s right, the failed SDP member. The woman who is torn apart on a weekly basis. The woman who has a website dedicated to exposing the numerous mistakes, exaggerations and downright falsehoods in her work. The woman who believes in equality of outcome and other assorted left wing bollocks. The woman who would love to have a threesome with Chuckles and the Dour Drip.

And who is suggesting this? Why, none other than Greg Clark - Tory Party MP, confidant of Cameron and Shadow Minister. Whereas most Tories would see the day when they start agreeing with that rancid hag Toynbee as the day to go and get that shotgun, saw off the end, point it under their chin and pull the trigger, Clark sees it as the day to boast about his conversion to puerile lefty politics. To the sodding Guardian.

I have come to the conclusion that Clark has no brain. In fact, I reckon that when he was a kid, his parents cracked open his skull, scooped out the minimal grey matter contained within, and then elected to use their child’s skull as a latrine/toilet bowl. Because there is no other logical explanation for the absolute shite spewing from Clark’s mouth. There is no other reason why an adviser to the Leader of the Opposition would be chomping at the minge of the atrocious Toynbee. There is no other reason why a member of the Tory Shadow Cabinet, just as the party stands for the first time since 1997 within grasping distance of power, would turn to the fucked up, unworkable policies of the twat Polly – policies so inane that even the Liberal Democrats would think twice before advocating them.

Apparently embracing Toynbee “goes back to our roots”. Apparently it harks back to Disraeli, and his fight against poverty. Erm, no. Disraeli lived in a very different age. When he lived, poverty meant literally being unable to eat, not having to chose between your subscription to Sky and your fourth KFC of the day. When Disraeli lived, poverty meant you starved to death. Then the concept of those being classed as poverty stricken and also being classed as obese would have seemed farcical. Likewise, child poverty meant the workhouse, it meant child hood labour. Not being able to afford nothing else after your hoodie and having to steal a mate’s mobile. It meant no education at all, not cutting school. It meant no food, not whining because Jamie Oliver has had junk food banned from school. Mr E is right when he contradicts Clark and says that poverty is absolute, and not relative. Poverty in this country in this day and age is nowhere near as bad as when Disraeli led the Conservative movement.

Clark criticises Churchill, stating that his view of welfare focuses on:

“…the bottom: holding people at subsistence level, just above the abyss of hunger and homelessness.”

Yes, he was a Conservative. Of course he believed in a safety net, from stopping those who have made the wrong choices from starving and from losing their homes. But surely the point is that there is an aspiration towards equality of opportunity, not equality of outcome. People should be encouraged to do the best they can, with welfare being a safety net – something you never, ever aspire to be on, but it is there if you really need it. The problem with welfare today is it offers too much – too much comfort – it doesn’t hold people down, but it doesn’t encourage people to move on. It is no longer a safety net, it is a comfortable bed to lie in. It is not about keeping people at subsistence level – it is about making them comfortable. You know the moment I became a Tory? It was when someone who worked for me – one of the hardest workers I have ever come across – came to me, overwrought, and saying that he had to resign because he could earn more money on welfare than working for a living. I thought the Tories would redress this balance – but if Toynbee is to become the Conservative ideologue for welfare then the party is totally fucked. And Toynbee herself realises this, with the BBC reporting:

“His words were hailed by Ms Toynbee as a "really radical move" which showed the party "in a completely new light".

I am sure that Toynbee loves what Clark is saying, but is also in a state of total shock. This must be so confusing for “our” Polly – suddenly the enemy, the evil Tories, believe what she believes. Even more so than Nu Labour. And she must love this statement from Clark:

"Polly Toynbee is a serious thinker about social policy. There are things I disagree with her on, but it would be ridiculous not to benefit from effective analysis.”

Again, Clark, you cunt, Factchecking Pollyanna. Go read. You may think that the party will benefit from effective analysis. Fine. But you cannot argue Toynbee is effective analysis.

This post is an unfocussed rant, lacking any real coherence. But it would all be ok if this was just the one misguided MP, someone who Cameron could quickly dispense with, like Michael Howard did with Flight. But the Guardian reports:

“Mr Cameron's aides praised Mr Clark's work...”

Fine. If Cameron, Clark and the rest of the Tory Party want to embrace the wishy-washy pseudo-socialism of Toynbee and drag the Conservatives to the left of the Labour party, they should go for it. But my message to them is simple – you can take my membership of the Tory party and shove it up your arseholes. And you can fuck off whilst you are doing it.