Many posers rattle through my brain at night – English cricket’s derailment, what is the point of Russel Brand, why do electric razors need to have their own specific socket, and who, if anyone, will be our prime minister next week?
Not since Vegas on Saturday have we had such a tight head to head battle; In the red corner we have the oddball’s oddball Red Ed Miliband and in the blue corner Tory idol David ‘call me Dave’ Cameron.
Unlike the Mayweather/Pacquiao fight there will be no excuses of dicky shoulders or complaints of timorous and elusive defence. The election, amongst the mountains of prospective policies, is at its essence a popularity contest headed by the most peculiar brand of humans – politicians.
Our front runners are neck and neck in the polls. A long election has quashed their amaranthine enthusiasm, whilst they are currently on auto pilot to the finish line with sleep deprivation etched on the two chaps faces. A peripatetic marathon of kissing babies and sipping on local ales is reaching its finale.
Last weekend Dave was in shirt sleeves – a classic of the modern politician – looking more like a husband washing up after supper than PM. Miliband, in what can only be described as an eccentric move, decided to ‘chisel’ his mandates into a faux giant tablet a la Moses and preach in front of them. All that was missing was the grey beard.
The quirks of the UK’s election mean that with the closeness comes the Machiavellian subplot of the king makers. Sturgen, Farage, Clegg are scuttling around in shadows hoping to sip just once from the chalice of power. The irony is that Dave and Miliband have been in such a close two horse race that it will be one of the less grand parties who will actually hold all the aces – who would blame that little weasel Clegg turning coat after being derided and marginalised by the Tories.
In the past Parliament was the opulent home to cads, bounders, and wits but now it seems only to attract more than its share of dullards and weirdos. Advertised as red Vs blue, we are in fact in a political era of beige – vanilla takes on carbonara to the soundtrack of Johnny Cash I walk the line.
They are an odd species completely detached from the public yet yearning its approval. I often look at the politicians and think what would it be like to sit next them at a dinner party?
Cameron; Despite looking like Don Draper and telling you how much he is like Draper, he would end up lacking style and substance and one would end up yearning to box him on his smug nose.
Miliband; No, just absolutely no. I can envisage his muculent handshake and insipid aftershave. The vacuous grin that would occur when you ask him about sport. Finally I can imagine the communist ramblings after two glasses of rose have flushed his cheeks. Stick to the Wensleydale Gromit.
Clegg; he may possibly have some interesting things to say but would be meekly hidden behind his wife, or Cameron, or anyone supine being.
Farage; Looks like great fun but I would quickly realise that he is a pompous, drunk, racist. Not my cup of tea.
Sturgen; I never trust a woman in trousers. She would probably blather on about crocheting, cats, and haggis. Copious claret and coffee would be needed.
Aside from character assassination, which politicians hold themselves up for, it is the paradoxical person they portray. David Cameron obviously enjoys a drink and smoke but pretends not – would we not respect him more if he admitted it (not like Farage falling from Stein to Stein) and Miliband is affluent – well done and good luck to you Ed.
The fact that these chaps lie about themselves before they open up about policy is scary. However, maybe we should admire two politicians who are able to lie so brazenly and change serenely like crafty chameleons. They are not honest men of integrity but benders of truth, which is an art form for politicians.
So perhaps we should admire their dishonesty and embrace the fact that all leaders must lie to rise to the top and deceive even more to stay there. Let’s be honest whoever the Queen anoints is hopefully keeping the hot seat warm for our beamish folk hero Boris!
It is important to vote in my opinion because we are incredibly lucky to live in society where we are able to; and more importantly a country where our vote will genuinely count.