It occurred to me the other day that the last British politician I ever felt any respect for was Michael Foot (1913 – 2010).
I still remember his speech on the eve of the 1983 election, when he urged people not to vote for themselves, but to vote for others, to think of the weakest members of society, the sick and the elderly, the unemployed and the poor, the outcasts.
He lost the election and the Labour party got its lowest share of the vote since 1918, which certainly tells you something.
Thirty years later and we’re ruled by Dave and his cutthroat crew of robber barons and public schoolboys, who preside over a system in which things like this take place.
And, while Dave’s political enemies crow about the carve up he’s made of things in Europe, it can’t have escaped them that he has ideally positioned himself to ride to victory in the next election on the back of the Little Englander mentality that has provided the backbone of his party’s appeal for generations.
So here I am, looking round for another politician I can respect, someone who can inspire me and give me a reason to hope, someone I can trust to do the right thing, even if that doesn’t fit in with the wishes of whoever dumped the most dosh into party funds.
And Mr Miliband and Mr Clegg, I’m not looking in the direction of either of you two clowns.
That was a party political broadcast brought to you on behalf of ‘the only good politician is now a dead politician’ party.