Footnote To A Clean Kill
"I seem to have a history of missing the point of this stuff. Apparently, very absent-mindedly, I care, but never enough for you."
Heads up, kittens. I know, I know...a week and a half with no postage at all is a rarity in this particular corner of the internet. The sad fact of the matter is that free time isn't a commodity I'm doing much dealing in at this stage of the game. Certainly not to the extent where I can sit down and write lengthy musings on whatever springs to mind. But we've got a couple of days before I once again soar off into the wild blue yonder on what promises to be another strange trip to the other side of the Atlantic, so let's see if we can't do something with them.
Once again, my political cynicism has come back to haunt me. I was planning on doing a post about the upcoming General Election earlier in the week. Given the events of the last couple of days, though, I'm glad I held off. Wednesday saw the first, last, and only meaningful shot of this sad little campaign fired in the form of a publicity stunt that was, in my humble opinion, a stroke of genius. It came from my favourite tabloid, The Sun, and saw red smoke billow from a chimney of the paper's headquarters as it finally stopped flirting with Michael Howard's mildly rejuvenated Conservative party and sat itself firmly in Mr. Blair's corner for the third and final time. Make no mistake about it, the result of this election was never in doubt, but any murmurs of a possible Tory resurgence were silenced by what was, in terms of derailing Howard's attempt to hit New Labour where it hurts, a clean kill.
It strikes me now that Rupert Murdoch's obvious and slightly surprising swing towards the men in blue these last few months was little more than a reminder to Mr. Blair and his friends just what kind of sway News Corporation still has, even with a mostly disinterested electorate. "Fuck with us, little man," he was saying, "and your entry in the history books will have a final page detailing just how badly you blew it when the going got tough." For Blair - with a third term and then glorious retirement as an undefeated, era-defining Prime Minister almost certain - this was clearly worrying. Far from coming out swinging against a ludicrous Tory campaign built on exactly the issues that have been selling News Corporation's papers these last few years, the Labour camp was ominously silent. Sure, nobody thought the Conservatives really had a chance of upending the overwhelming odds they're facing, but whispers can be damaging, and even a small comeback would be seen in many quarters as a victory for Howard. The man clearly isn't a fool, and until Thursday's papers hit the stands, his subtlety-free campaign was looking less like a doomed leader desperately trying to smear the opposition and more like a smart man throwing a net over that section of the electorate that matters the most when the deal goes down.
I know a few of you are mocking that last sentence, and I know many of you are aware of the derisision heaped upon the Conservative campaign posters that have largely been viewed as a cataclysmic graffiti magnet. For those people, I have but one simple question: How many of the Labour posters used in the run-up to this election can you remember? No publicity is bad publicity.
But, man, I was in awe of The Sun's little stunt. It was a powerful, topical image that touched on a recent event close to a lot of hearts. It got the paper attention from most of the major media outlets (even those that don't have the same owner) while at the same time placing Tony and cronies firmly back in the driver's seat. Michael Howard's proclamations seem little more than whimpers now, and this election is looking, for the Tories, like another very public flogging.
No predictions, then. New Labour had it in the bag. The events of this week mean merely that they can tie the string that little bit sooner. This could, potentially, be worse than '97 for the Tories. Tony strutted out of his corner yesterday like a man smelling blood. With the solid brass balls that are the only thing I have ever admired about the guy, he calmly took apart the Conservative campaign by addressing those issues - crime and immigration - that just a week ago appeared to be rocking the very foundations of his campaign, even referencing those infamous Tory billboards in the process. Tony was and is riding high. His place in history will not be denied.
As for me, you may recall me mentioning my disinterest some time ago. My feelings haven't changed. While I'm anything but apathetic or apolitical, the utter blandness of the current climate leaves me no choice but to be a detached and cynical observer. As Richard Littlejohn (of all people) pointed out last week, the problem with the Conservatives right now is that they're still dealing with the events of 1997. They're afraid to come right out and say that they're the party of low tax and a free market. Instead, they sidle up to the centrist policies that blew them out of the water so comprehensively eight years ago and quietly agree with them while jumping on headline-grabbing issues like immigration and hoping that Blair and co. fuck up enough for it to be worth something. What you end up with, especially in the aftermath of the red smoke and the brass balls speech, is a two party system where both parties stand for the exact same thing. One is the acceptable if not remarkable devil you know, and one is the devil that bit you in the arse and then chewed for eighteen straight years, leaving a wound that simply will not heal if the Tories do nothing but smile nervously and pretend they're exactly like New Labour only without the stuff News Corporation doesn't like.
I don't support the Tories, and I never could, but I do wish they'd get their fucking act together. This drift toward the centre has made the entire concept of British Democracy dangerously stagnant. As the recent US election proved, polarisation = voter turnout. Even if the result wasn't what a lot of people I talk to wanted, the fact that George W. Bush is a polarising figure cannot be denied. It was the reaction to his administration that lead to the largest number of people voting in a Presidential Election for 36 years, which is healthy for Democracy regardless of the result. Here in England, though, we have no hope of such numbers heading for the polling stations on May 5th. In fact, if I'm not going to bother predicting an astoundingly obvious result, I will take a stroll out on a limb and say that I think the turnout for the 2005 General election will be the lowest in British Electoral history. If that happens, there's no doubt that it'll make a few headlines and keep a few broadsheet columnists in material for a few weeks. But in terms of the real story of this drab, empty election - Blair's ascension into the ranks of Britain's greatest Prime Ministers - it's merely a footnote. And I have to tell you, that scares me a little. Where do we go from here?
Heads up, kittens. I know, I know...a week and a half with no postage at all is a rarity in this particular corner of the internet. The sad fact of the matter is that free time isn't a commodity I'm doing much dealing in at this stage of the game. Certainly not to the extent where I can sit down and write lengthy musings on whatever springs to mind. But we've got a couple of days before I once again soar off into the wild blue yonder on what promises to be another strange trip to the other side of the Atlantic, so let's see if we can't do something with them.
Once again, my political cynicism has come back to haunt me. I was planning on doing a post about the upcoming General Election earlier in the week. Given the events of the last couple of days, though, I'm glad I held off. Wednesday saw the first, last, and only meaningful shot of this sad little campaign fired in the form of a publicity stunt that was, in my humble opinion, a stroke of genius. It came from my favourite tabloid, The Sun, and saw red smoke billow from a chimney of the paper's headquarters as it finally stopped flirting with Michael Howard's mildly rejuvenated Conservative party and sat itself firmly in Mr. Blair's corner for the third and final time. Make no mistake about it, the result of this election was never in doubt, but any murmurs of a possible Tory resurgence were silenced by what was, in terms of derailing Howard's attempt to hit New Labour where it hurts, a clean kill.
It strikes me now that Rupert Murdoch's obvious and slightly surprising swing towards the men in blue these last few months was little more than a reminder to Mr. Blair and his friends just what kind of sway News Corporation still has, even with a mostly disinterested electorate. "Fuck with us, little man," he was saying, "and your entry in the history books will have a final page detailing just how badly you blew it when the going got tough." For Blair - with a third term and then glorious retirement as an undefeated, era-defining Prime Minister almost certain - this was clearly worrying. Far from coming out swinging against a ludicrous Tory campaign built on exactly the issues that have been selling News Corporation's papers these last few years, the Labour camp was ominously silent. Sure, nobody thought the Conservatives really had a chance of upending the overwhelming odds they're facing, but whispers can be damaging, and even a small comeback would be seen in many quarters as a victory for Howard. The man clearly isn't a fool, and until Thursday's papers hit the stands, his subtlety-free campaign was looking less like a doomed leader desperately trying to smear the opposition and more like a smart man throwing a net over that section of the electorate that matters the most when the deal goes down.
I know a few of you are mocking that last sentence, and I know many of you are aware of the derisision heaped upon the Conservative campaign posters that have largely been viewed as a cataclysmic graffiti magnet. For those people, I have but one simple question: How many of the Labour posters used in the run-up to this election can you remember? No publicity is bad publicity.
But, man, I was in awe of The Sun's little stunt. It was a powerful, topical image that touched on a recent event close to a lot of hearts. It got the paper attention from most of the major media outlets (even those that don't have the same owner) while at the same time placing Tony and cronies firmly back in the driver's seat. Michael Howard's proclamations seem little more than whimpers now, and this election is looking, for the Tories, like another very public flogging.
No predictions, then. New Labour had it in the bag. The events of this week mean merely that they can tie the string that little bit sooner. This could, potentially, be worse than '97 for the Tories. Tony strutted out of his corner yesterday like a man smelling blood. With the solid brass balls that are the only thing I have ever admired about the guy, he calmly took apart the Conservative campaign by addressing those issues - crime and immigration - that just a week ago appeared to be rocking the very foundations of his campaign, even referencing those infamous Tory billboards in the process. Tony was and is riding high. His place in history will not be denied.
As for me, you may recall me mentioning my disinterest some time ago. My feelings haven't changed. While I'm anything but apathetic or apolitical, the utter blandness of the current climate leaves me no choice but to be a detached and cynical observer. As Richard Littlejohn (of all people) pointed out last week, the problem with the Conservatives right now is that they're still dealing with the events of 1997. They're afraid to come right out and say that they're the party of low tax and a free market. Instead, they sidle up to the centrist policies that blew them out of the water so comprehensively eight years ago and quietly agree with them while jumping on headline-grabbing issues like immigration and hoping that Blair and co. fuck up enough for it to be worth something. What you end up with, especially in the aftermath of the red smoke and the brass balls speech, is a two party system where both parties stand for the exact same thing. One is the acceptable if not remarkable devil you know, and one is the devil that bit you in the arse and then chewed for eighteen straight years, leaving a wound that simply will not heal if the Tories do nothing but smile nervously and pretend they're exactly like New Labour only without the stuff News Corporation doesn't like.
I don't support the Tories, and I never could, but I do wish they'd get their fucking act together. This drift toward the centre has made the entire concept of British Democracy dangerously stagnant. As the recent US election proved, polarisation = voter turnout. Even if the result wasn't what a lot of people I talk to wanted, the fact that George W. Bush is a polarising figure cannot be denied. It was the reaction to his administration that lead to the largest number of people voting in a Presidential Election for 36 years, which is healthy for Democracy regardless of the result. Here in England, though, we have no hope of such numbers heading for the polling stations on May 5th. In fact, if I'm not going to bother predicting an astoundingly obvious result, I will take a stroll out on a limb and say that I think the turnout for the 2005 General election will be the lowest in British Electoral history. If that happens, there's no doubt that it'll make a few headlines and keep a few broadsheet columnists in material for a few weeks. But in terms of the real story of this drab, empty election - Blair's ascension into the ranks of Britain's greatest Prime Ministers - it's merely a footnote. And I have to tell you, that scares me a little. Where do we go from here?
posted by Michael at 11:39 AM
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