Friday fillibuster

Well now – wasn’t that exciting? We stayed up a bit later last night but the Exit Polls had taken some of the suspense out of things. All in all, a better result for the opposition than I had expected; it looked as if the idea of protest voting was not widely followed or did not have the effect that was forecast. B Liar says that he has listened and learned. I think he started listening just at 10 pm last night when he heard the Exit Poll forecasts. What he has learned is surely the Barnum Theory – you can fool all of the people some of the time and some of the people all of the time but not all people all the time. Howard has just announced his forthcoming resignation. This based upon his age in four years time and what he feels is his failure to deliver a Tory victory. The age bit I can understand. He surely has nothing to be ashamed of in what he has done in – what – 18 months since he replaced that man whose name – and face – I have forgotten. I think that Howard, emboldened by what he did achieve, would be a telling opponent for B Liar who will have to start out a new government with a 60’ish majority. That 60 is about the same number as those on his side of the house who are permanent rebels.

My abstention from voting here did not have any significant effect. The Lib-Dem bloke had a 6,000’ish majority. Had I voted as my genes, it would have been 5,999’ish. Following my brain would have pushed him up to 6,001. Big deal!

The only result that really annoyed me was the Galloway result in Befnel Grean. He overturned a B Liar babe who had the advantage of an immigrant-sounding name, was black and female. If only there had been a bit of a dark side to her sexuality, a minor disability and she liked whale songs. That would have made her a cert. Galloway fought his usual bullshine campaign. All he has done is split the unity of the Muslim community. Once he can get his feet back in the trough of parliamentary money, he’ll be off on his old reiver-like ways.

Oh yes, one other moan. B Liar has just confirmed that he has been to Buck House and that “the Queen” had invited him to blah blah blah. Why is it that when I went to Buck House it was to see “Her Majesty The Queen”? His New Arbeit ways may be OK for him and Briefcase Mouth, but he should still respect the conventions.

Last night’s Bremner and the 2 Johns was keenly awaited by us two. It is not just the make up and voices we like but the actual content is also good. I thought he was weak last night and that the two Johns were even better than usual. Their dinner party thread just gets better and better every time they appear.

That is the end of the election news.

As light relief from the past week or so, I have been paying more attention to blogs from the far side of the pond with a few from other foreign parts. Depression is a major thread in many that I read. This set me off down the road, ‘does blogging make you depressed or are depressed people prone to blogging?’ I suppose that the neutral setting of a room, a computer and a readable result is the latest adaptation to the sort of therapy led by psychiatrists. The thought about blogging and depression went into my assessment when I started on how many postings there are where – mostly – women are very frank about their sex life and dreams. Do sex maniac’s blog or does blog make you randy? I go back to the days when the f*** word was only very rarely heard even in all male company. As for the c*** expression, it was never heard and one came across it only when written on lavatory walls. My service days exposed me to a very wide sexual vocabulary and flexible rules of grammar where f*** and c*** were concerned, (e.g. ‘this f-ing thing is f-ing f-ed), but I am still a little shocked when they turn up quite regularly in the blog of someone whose work elsewhere suggests that they could well express themselves without going into these basic terms. They seem to be universal even in the school playground. I do not consider myself a prude – dirty joke anyone? – but I am sad when a wonderful language such as ours is more and more reduced to such crudity.

That’s it for now – I must f*** off for my dinner..