Heroes

Its election morning, and if this were America I’d be wondering who out of Brown, Clegg or Cameron would make the best President. And I suppose I’d be thinking the same if I were in France or Italy. And I’m not going to place my vote based on some remote figures personality. Because if I were, it would be Brown I would pin the tail on. The one eyed donkey, who’s failed a course in how to smile on TV, and who really dislikes ignorant street opinion. The man who can never look smart or slick. The PR man’s nightmare.

Clegg, Cameron the names are as interchangeable as their personas. I’m reminded of Breakfast TV presenters, who invariably trigger a gag reflex when their smug faces appear on screen. I’d rather give my vote to a tramp outside a tube station, than to the PR man’s wet dream.

This Hobson’s choice makes you hanker after real heroes, but as the Stranglers succinctly listed in their song (No More Heroes), most of them die or are assassinated. And most of them were megalomaniacs, who outstay their welcome.


As Mark Antony (the Shakespearian version) said:

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him;
The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones.

I concede Brown being the most Charles Laughton like would make a good Roman Senator, and I’m certain Clegg and Cameron raided the dressing-up box during their privileged upbringings. But a Caesar, they are not; and I’m glad they’re not. And I’m glad the attempts at American style Presidential debates were a failure. And I’m glad that no matter how hard the Broadcast/Print Media try to present the Election as a pin-the-tail on a donkey contest, they fail.


For me the Election is not about Heroes; but what the next government can do for me. So for this reason, and this reason alone I’m voting Labour (faults n’ all).