This picture from the Daily Mail, discussing the fates of the ‘First Fancy Five’ supposed A-listers of the Boy David’s campaign, really says a great deal about ‘Our Dave’.
Do readers agree with me that the photos of the so-called A-list Ten who posed with fancy clothes and even fancier hair-do’s, at least for the men, for The Tatler magazine represent the real reason why the Boy David didn’t clinch his prophesied majority in Parliament. Do they also show the way his mind works, his political philosophies operate, his very core of political beliefs? The fact that the only reason the proposed Lab-Lib coalition didn’t come off was because of the visceral hatred of some of the old-time Labour hands, such as John Reid and Diane Abbott, for the very idea of the Lib-Dems to be in being, never mind in Government.
So, as Gordon swings his two sons by the hand as he walks away into the sunset, and as the “Boy David’ snuggles up to his Samantha in the doorway of No. Ten, we should be looking at not what we have, not bought, but more or less been handed as a ‘fait accompli’ as our Prime Minister and leader of Her Majesty’s Government. He set up, in defiance of Tory Party convention, a preferential list of people who had impressed him and his accursed focus groups. The primacy of the local Conservative Party associations was trampled upon as he strove to get his favourites into the selection process, upsetting his opponents who are happy to be called the Tory Taliban, and we see the result as just on a third of his favourites actually stirred the Tory voter to support him and his policies.
If we look a little closer at the first ‘Famous Five’, a slightly differing picture emerges from the ‘competent but trendy’ Conservative which is proffered by the publicity stills. Shaun Bailey runs a Charity called ‘My Generation’ which is billed as existing to “alleviate social and economic disadvantage” . Now that is in itself laudable and inspiring, but the main beneficiary of funding in 2008, to the value of £93,00.00, seems to have been the management, namely our Sean. The simpering features of Peter Lyburn stare vacuously out from the page, as a promise of what, exactly? That he wears, and looks good in, a nice suit? The voters of Perth and Perthshire North didn’t seem to be won over by the pictures of him enjoying himself at a party by snuggling up (down) to the groin area of another partygoer, as they handed him his coat by electing the former Runrig keyboard player as their M.P. instead. Joanne Cash was parachuted in to the Westminster North Constituency, but failed to add to her list of ‘Friends’ by calling all the leading Tories ‘Dinosaurs’. She resigned, was revived, re-installed after a ‘personal call’ from Our Dave, and lost the contest to Labour’s Karen Buck.
Cameron may have what it takes to run a Government, even one as capricious as this ‘coalition’ promises to be, but he’s a hell of a long way from convincing me that he could run a cat shelter.