Let’s face it, the Corbynistas have an extra chromosome: Tony Blair writes exclusively for Opinionoid

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Look, politics is comprehensively botched right now, and it’s pretty clear which cult’s responsible: the Corbynistas. I don’t understand what drives them, because I’m a normal person of sound mind, but at a friend’s request (President al-Assad), and in part motivated by the same morbid curiosity one succumbs to when watching video footage of a disgruntled ex-employee murdering his former journalist colleagues during a live transmission, I read Rosie Fletcher’s impassioned defence of these half-wits in last week’s Observer. Well, she wrote eloquently, but I’d barely got half way through the piece when I realised she too was nuts.

Let’s not mince words, because we’re way beyond that now. If you support Jeremy Corbyn to be the next leader of the Labour movement then you’re defective. I can see you now. You’re terribly superior, aren’t you? Sickeningly pious in every argument you escalate and moral to a fault, your equally sanctimonious friends, cut from the same cloth woven of received wisdom and historical ignorance, love you for it. How wonderful to be a legend in your own mind, a font of pure intellect that stands tall amongst the obtuse masses. Good for you, putting the world to rights at your favourite gastropub, a product of the very aspiration and commodification of lifestyle you profess to despise, attending your silly discussion groups, and watching The Trews with Russell Brand (thankfully now defunct) and feeling clever for having all your half-informed views fed back to you like baby food on a plastic spoon.

From the window in my bullet and bomb proof Mercedes I watch you. I see you every day, walking the streets with your identikit partner, a testament to the narcissism that informs each and every relationship you’ve ever had. I hate your designer glasses and your arty t-shirt. I hate that you’ve spent a fortune to make yourself look dishevelled. And I despise you for marking everything you do with a pin on that oversized lapel of yours, because apparently believing in a cause or visiting an institution isn’t enough, you have to advertise it, else who’d know what a cultivated and intellectual curious paragon of cool you were? It must be wonderful being a walking set of clichés.

But politics is a serious business, not an interesting little conversation filler for the barely conscious, and frankly, if you can’t take it seriously, you should keep quiet and leave participation to those who know something about it. Why not stick to the subjects you can talk about with authority, like your idealised self and the fantasy world you imagine you’re living in?

Across the world, from the United States to Scotland, politics is being hijacked by the mentally-ill and barely functional. When you have the audacity to tell these idiots that they’re challenging an orthodoxy that works pretty well from where I’m sitting, then they plug their ears and start playing with themselves…somehow. ‘For Christ’s sake,’ I’ve told them, ‘we’ve been through all this before. Don’t you idiots ever learn? There will never be a viable alternative to the way we live now. All other models are broken, and I should know because I played my part in breaking them.’ Yet still the degenerates don’t listen, and now we’re looking at the prospect of unreconstructed opposition to Thatcherism at precisely the time my earnings are set to top £80m.

So that’s it then. The Labour Party is finished. Corbyn will become leader, not because he deserves it, but due to the machinations of a student cabal that’s determined to condemn us to long term irrelevance. Defeat in 2020 is certain and you can probably kiss 2025 goodbye too. It saddens me, it really does, that Labour will have to go through the lengthy and debilitating process of crushing idealism and lofty notions of equality for a second time, the experience of two cycles of eradication the only way to comprehensively defeat these high-minded ideas, insensitive to the needs of Middle England, once and for all.

How fucking depressing that we’ll have to watch the Tories restore the country to the highly stratified and offensively unequal country we inherited in 1997, in order to realise that the only way to win is to say we’ll follow the same trajectory. If we’re lucky enough to go on and re-take power, and are seen to do little, bar minor changes like the minimum wage, then the promise of New Labour will be restored. I pray for that day, a time when the drooling fadinoids with an extra chromosome return to obscurity and the senseless preoccupation with their empty lives.

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Published in: on August 30, 2015 at 13:28  Leave a Comment  
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