On the matter of meeting up with people, no one has ever told me they have met David Cameron nor, indeed, that they have met Tony Blair, but that may say something about the quality of the company my friends, acquaintances and I keep. I have encountered Gordon Brown on two occasions, once on the Lomonds in Fife when walking with my nephew, C, and on another occasion when rambling around in Kirkcaldy town centre with my elder grandson, S, on the day of his brother's, my younger grandson, J's, birth, but those are stories for another time.
I don't think Jeremy Corbyn and the crew of helpers who have so successfully achieved this overwhelming democratic Labour leadership victory are unsullied paragons but they are pioneers navigating the river of life who have caught us by surprise and sailed their small boat well past that little island stuffed full of a shipwrecked cacophonous crowd made up of the self-satisfied which includes among others : capitalists, the chatterers of the printed and broadcast mass media, members of the Conservative Party and, New Labour Blairites. For a moment one is almost tempted to pity them as they huff, puff and strain, stranded on their isle of patrician politics.
Still those of us who want a fairer more altruistic way of dealing with the world must be on our guard because these "know alls" on the island are, as I write, fighting among themselves for any odd spars they can find that will float them to the river banks where they will desperately romp and stomp their way down the embankments in an attempt to gain back control by damming the river before the good boat JC is able to reach its next berth.
We mustn't let them do this but we need not panic. It is so easy to distract and stall them. Tell them that JC will refuse to kneel down in front the Queen, or better still inform them that in a recent secret ritual he carried out with a coven of socialist witches, JC recited the words of the national anthem backwards. Providing them with these sorts of scenarios is guaranteed to arrest the smarty-pants and occupy them for days in mindless discussion and so allow people who lead real lives to get on with their daily struggles as well as giving them the time and space to make decisions for themselves free from the imperative filled babble of those who in their grandiosity really do believe they know what is best for us. It would be helpful if some of these 'unco guid' found a shady rill by the river and sat down for a while to reflect upon their pomposity. Some may already be doing this but I see no obvious signs of it yet.
|The Tay Ferry|
I am sorry to be paddling around in these political waters but right now it seems important for me to do so. I will try to forgive myself for all this counter-pomposity and I hope I will be back soon sailing on the Tay Ferry in 1950s Dundee.