I was that excited yesterday about going to a tupperware party at number 10 that I was unable to blog. It was a smashing evening although the garden was in a bit of state. I mentioned this to DC. He admitted that the previous owner had let the weeds get out of control but he was determined to sort them out, as well as cut back some of the more impressive flowers that had been sown in the past 13 years because they were too expensive to maintain or he simply didn't think they were important as people like him didn't get any use out of them.
He also asked whether I was planning to stand as a Tory candidate at the next election. I said "no". He said "thank fuck for that" and walked off leaving me to imagine in my head a conversation where he was pleading that I stand and me claiming I couldn't because I was too old. Reality is I couldn't stand the pain of losing again. It is not as if I have been obsessed with it (yeah, right).
Plus ever since the MP expenses wheeze was rumbled I can make far more money with all the pies I currently have fingers in. Why go to the bother of being properly accountable to people when you can try and shape things through misrepresentations on a blog and through media work? It is harder to suppress criticism when you are an MP.
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Well, it's easy to rewrite history in your head and pass off a gentle "fuck off" as if it was your own idea all along, and I wouldn't criticise your self-sacrificial decision to publish your fantasy. After all, we all need to build walls to defend us against reality. I would agree that, these days, politics is a young man's game, innit, and, at 52, you have nothing worthwhile left to offer society, big or no-such-thing-as. Don't fear the Reaper, eh, Iain?
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