Marx on Monday – Clegg

My fault this is up late, I hadn’t expected Marx to be working on a Bank Holiday Monday…must be all that sunshine. Ed

 

Without doubt the most pernicious piece of legislation passed by our current fascist government is a requirement that, in order to get my “jobseekers” allowance, I have to prove I’m actually seeking a job. This entails me dragging myself out of bed, often before noon, in all weathers and walking the half a mile to my local job centre to register for work.

And so I found myself in the job centre late last Friday morning checking out the situations vacant board. Normally there aren’t any jobs on there that I fancy but on Friday one caught my eye – “wanted – new leader for the Liberal Democrats – the successful candidate must be able to dissemble with the best of them, give short change with a hearty clap on the shoulder and be prepared to get into bed with the devil himself if it is the only means of getting into power.”

I quite fancied that job, but so it seemed did the man standing next to me who was staring intently at the same advert.

“Are you thinking of applying as well?” I asked, turning to face him, but then I stopped in my tracks. It was Nick Clegg – the actual leader himself – and tears were streaming down his face.

“Come on Nick,” I comforted him, “it can’t be as bad as all that.”

“It certainly is Kevin,” he replied, “how would you like it if you went down as the worst Lib Dem leader in history?”

“Not the worst surely,” I said, “what about David Steel?”

“His message to the Lib Dems was go back to your constituencies and prepare for government,” Nick shook his head, “after yesterday’s elections mine is go back to your constituencies and prepare for a life after politics.”

“Come on Nick, the results weren’t that bad.”

“Not that bad,” he scoffed, “we came 7th in South Shields with 1.4% of the vote. Even the British National Party polled twice as many votes as us.”

“But South Shields has always been a difficult seat for the Liberals,” I protested.

“It was a safe Liberal seat for over a hundred years,” he replied, “even at the last election we polled nearly 15% of the vote.”

“And what about the local election results?” I asked.

“Disastrous,” he replied, “we lost 124 seats, over 25% of our overall share -nobody wants to vote Lib Dem anymore.”

“So what’s gone wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “we’ve done everything we can to present ourselves to the electorate as a party full of fruitcakes, loonies and closet racists but people still seem to prefer UKIP.”

“Do you think you’ve lurched far enough to the right?” I asked.

“Just look at our policies,” he snapped back, “our election manifesto was a solemn pledge to abolish university tuition fees – but we’ve actually tripled them; we promised amnesty for illegal immigrants – now I’ve introduced a £1,000 deposit for all visitors from the third world – to be re-paid when they leave; I promised to safeguard Kingston hospital, where my son was born – and then slashed its budget by 25%; I promised to lower taxes – and raised VAT to 20%: other than adopting the swastika as our party emblem I don’t see what more I could have done.”

“Yet nobody is voting for you?”

“No,” he sobbed, “whether it’s because I’ve lied so often in the past that nobody believes me anymore or whether it’s because I’ve sold out Liberal Party principles in pursuit of personal power, no-one seems to trust me.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t think the Lib Dems are a big enough party for a leader of my ability and ambition,” he announced, “I’m unlikely to be able to form a coalition after the next election with only 1.4% of the vote. That’s why I’ve decided to defect to a bigger party and become their leader.”

“You’re going to take on Nigel Farage for the leadership of UKIP?”

“No, I’m going to take on Screaming Lord Sutch for the leadership of the Monster Raving Loony Party.”

“But Screaming Lord Sutch is dead.”

“So am I,” Nick replied, “politically.”

“So what are you going to do instead?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head ruefully as he looked at the situations vacant on the board in front of him, “there don’t seem to be many jobs around.”

“No,” I replied, “I wonder whose fault that is?”

“And those jobs that there are only seem to pay minimum wage,” he ignored me, “I’m going to struggle to send my three children to my old school on £210 a week.”

“How much are the fees for your old school?” I asked.

“To be a boarder at Westminster costs just over £30,000 a year,” he said, “that’s over £90,000 a year for the three of them.”

“Well then lucky your wife has got a good job,” I replied.

“So have I,” he protested, “I’m still MP for Sheffield Hallam with a majority of 8,682.”

“That’s true,” I agreed, “but there’s a general election coming up in a couple of years.”

“I know,” he replied, “you couldn’t lend me £500 for my deposit could you.”

“Will I get it back?” I asked.

4 comments on “Marx on Monday – Clegg

  1. anthem2013
    May 7, 2013 at 1:55 pm #

    Fantastic but who’s Nick Clegg?

  2. Nick Beale
    May 7, 2013 at 7:36 pm #

    James….you know the Australian situation….please change a few names and examples and do one of these for Julia Gillard…please!!

  3. Mark Nutley
    May 8, 2013 at 8:40 am #

    Love it, these get better every time

  4. Henry Brubaker (@Inst_4_Studies)
    May 8, 2013 at 9:16 pm #

    “I know,” he replied, “you couldn’t lend me £500 for my deposit could you.”

    “Will I get it back?” I asked.

    Lol, its funny because its true. And no, you wont get it back.

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