Love Labour, hate Blair.
One day, nearly 16 years ago, I was sitting in my Technical Drawing class sketching isometric views on graph paper and Asif burst in clutching a radio.
"John Smiths dead!"
We all gathered round the teachers desk and listened to the World At One, wondering what would happen next.
Over the next few weeks, and some mythical but, I'm sure, highly agreeable courses in Granita, it became clear. The Blair/Brown/Mandelson axis jerked the party to the right, something I railed against in Modern Studies at length. First time I ever (mis)used "dialectical materialism" in anger received red marginalia of "NO RANTING!". My standard grade course work was exclusively concerned with Blair's macho fight over Clause IV ("To secure for the workers by hand or by brain the full fruits of their labour...").
And, at first, just after Portillo lost out to Stephen Twigg in what is still officially the funniest returning officers speech ever it looked ok. Independence for the Bank of England, military intervention in Kosovo and Sierra Leone, equalisation of the age of consent, devolution for England and Wales, devolution and peace for Northern Ireland, working family tax credits.
It all went wrong of course. The scars Blair's back gathered in the Clause IV wrangling were nothing to those we inflicted on Iraq for the years leading up to the 2003 invasion, let alone after. Brown and Mandelson are no better, although less punchable - Blair always sort of reminded me of Will Carling, and there just isn't a good way to do that.
In 2006, the day after the disastrous local government elections, I bit the bullet and signed up to the party. It still represents what I believe in better than any of the other parties. I know it's fashionable to be a Liberal Democrat these days but they're considerably more in favour of private provision of public services than I am. I really rate some of their MPs as individuals, but then I quite like Ken Clarke and I'm not going to vote Tory.
But still. Dennis Skinner. Bob Marshall-Andrews. Michael Foot. Tony Benn. 1945. Nye Bevan and the NHS. Public utilities owned by the state, operated in the public interest. Fucking Labour. A country about to be "forged in the white heat of technology" again which, as in Wilsons day, needed enlightened governance to fully exploit it's potential and not exclude people.
And so, we come to today. The last day of what may be the last Labour government for some time. And it's last act is to ram through some of worst legislation since the Dangerous Dogs Act or the Criminal Justice Act. And this wasn't some simple "dogs with big teeth, bad temper and a repetitive beat" vaugeness. There will be few unintended consequences. The Digital Economy Bill was carefully considered.
Just not by our elected representatives, but by the record companies and movie studios who's strangle hold over the people who actually create works is threatened by the internets tendancy towards disintermediation. They've thought through the consequences and it's either what they want or they're indifferent towards them. They only really use public wifi in Starbucks, where T-Mobile charge anyway.
It didn't go through entirely unopposed. 40 MPs voted against it. 20 of them were Labour, 1 was so AwkwardSquad he's the independent member for Blaneu Gwent, which used to be Ebbw Vale. 16 of the 62 Liberal Democrats voted against it, as did 2 Tories (one of whom was David Davies who'll do the exact opposite of whatever Cameron tells him too and the other was Christopher Chope, who we last saw protecting the interests of companies who buy up developing countries debt and pursue it through British courts and was presumably trying to reclaim some small portion of his soul).
In light of all that, I did the only thing I could think of to celebrate the people who tried to stop this piece of shit legislation more effectively than any other group. I made a facebook group and spammed it to my friends.
If you live somewhere like me, and your MPs a turnip with a red and yellow rosette, I'm sorry. Give 'em a scare. But on May 4th actually spend a bit of time googling your candidate and, if you live somewhere like Great Grimsby or Bolsover, for the sake of us all get as many of the odd balls with principles in as possible.
It'll be lulz. Seriously.
"John Smiths dead!"
We all gathered round the teachers desk and listened to the World At One, wondering what would happen next.
Over the next few weeks, and some mythical but, I'm sure, highly agreeable courses in Granita, it became clear. The Blair/Brown/Mandelson axis jerked the party to the right, something I railed against in Modern Studies at length. First time I ever (mis)used "dialectical materialism" in anger received red marginalia of "NO RANTING!". My standard grade course work was exclusively concerned with Blair's macho fight over Clause IV ("To secure for the workers by hand or by brain the full fruits of their labour...").
And, at first, just after Portillo lost out to Stephen Twigg in what is still officially the funniest returning officers speech ever it looked ok. Independence for the Bank of England, military intervention in Kosovo and Sierra Leone, equalisation of the age of consent, devolution for England and Wales, devolution and peace for Northern Ireland, working family tax credits.
It all went wrong of course. The scars Blair's back gathered in the Clause IV wrangling were nothing to those we inflicted on Iraq for the years leading up to the 2003 invasion, let alone after. Brown and Mandelson are no better, although less punchable - Blair always sort of reminded me of Will Carling, and there just isn't a good way to do that.
In 2006, the day after the disastrous local government elections, I bit the bullet and signed up to the party. It still represents what I believe in better than any of the other parties. I know it's fashionable to be a Liberal Democrat these days but they're considerably more in favour of private provision of public services than I am. I really rate some of their MPs as individuals, but then I quite like Ken Clarke and I'm not going to vote Tory.
But still. Dennis Skinner. Bob Marshall-Andrews. Michael Foot. Tony Benn. 1945. Nye Bevan and the NHS. Public utilities owned by the state, operated in the public interest. Fucking Labour. A country about to be "forged in the white heat of technology" again which, as in Wilsons day, needed enlightened governance to fully exploit it's potential and not exclude people.
And so, we come to today. The last day of what may be the last Labour government for some time. And it's last act is to ram through some of worst legislation since the Dangerous Dogs Act or the Criminal Justice Act. And this wasn't some simple "dogs with big teeth, bad temper and a repetitive beat" vaugeness. There will be few unintended consequences. The Digital Economy Bill was carefully considered.
Just not by our elected representatives, but by the record companies and movie studios who's strangle hold over the people who actually create works is threatened by the internets tendancy towards disintermediation. They've thought through the consequences and it's either what they want or they're indifferent towards them. They only really use public wifi in Starbucks, where T-Mobile charge anyway.
It didn't go through entirely unopposed. 40 MPs voted against it. 20 of them were Labour, 1 was so AwkwardSquad he's the independent member for Blaneu Gwent, which used to be Ebbw Vale. 16 of the 62 Liberal Democrats voted against it, as did 2 Tories (one of whom was David Davies who'll do the exact opposite of whatever Cameron tells him too and the other was Christopher Chope, who we last saw protecting the interests of companies who buy up developing countries debt and pursue it through British courts and was presumably trying to reclaim some small portion of his soul).
In light of all that, I did the only thing I could think of to celebrate the people who tried to stop this piece of shit legislation more effectively than any other group. I made a facebook group and spammed it to my friends.
If you live somewhere like me, and your MPs a turnip with a red and yellow rosette, I'm sorry. Give 'em a scare. But on May 4th actually spend a bit of time googling your candidate and, if you live somewhere like Great Grimsby or Bolsover, for the sake of us all get as many of the odd balls with principles in as possible.
It'll be lulz. Seriously.