Wrinkled, Crinkled, Wadded Dollar Bill

As well as singing about “Wrinkled, Crinkled, Wadded Dollar Bill … Somebody“, Johnny Cash once said that “success is having to worry about every damn thing in the world, except money“.  By that token, Douglas Alexander is doing very well indeed: his worries are mounting by the day and it seems for all the world that neither he, nor his party, gives a tuppence toss about the economy.

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Let’s start with those worries.  It looked like Wee Dougie had enough on his plate with producing a strategy for getting this Labour lot into power and polishing the assorted turds required to implement his plan.  But now that plate his been topped with thick, brown, smelly gravy.

According to polling research carried out and gleefully released this week by Lord Ashcroft, Labour will join confectionary in getting battered north of the border with senior figures like Dougie losing their seats.  Ashcroft’s research, which despite its origin is broadly accepted to be accurate, suggests that Dougie will lose his Paisley and Renfrewshire South constituency with a swing to the SNP of 25 per cent.

His seat’s not looked this endangered since the Park Mains High School Great Wedgie Week of 1983.

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All of this begs two questions.  First, why did Labour choose an election strategist who’s in serious danger of losing his own seat?  It’s a bit like a 40-year-old virgin taking lessons in pulling women from … well, Douglas Alexander.

The second question is: what’s Dougie going to do about it?  Will he be given compassionate leave to head north and persuade his constituents that he’s not the drabbest thing in Paisley since my grandmother’s curtains.

This seems unlikely as, for now, he’s busier than a cucumber in a women’s prison as he tries to put out the fires his shadow cabinet colleagues are lighting like a posse of pyromaniacs.

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Earlier in the week, Dougie had to sit Ed Miliband down and explain to him why normal people don’t think “working for a government department” or “lecturing on government” count as experience “outside of politics“.  Having sorted out Number One, he then had to turn his attention to Number Two – or Ed Balls as he’s sometimes known – who dropped one of his namesakes on Tuesday night.

For those who missed it, here’s what led to the latest car crash.

1.  On Sunday, Boots’ acting chief executive, Stefano Pessina, claims that a Labour government would be a catastrophe.

2.  Miliband takes this to heart and responds by shouting: “LA LA LA CAN’T HEAR YOU.  WAIT … YOU’RE FOREIGN.  SO YOU PROBABLY DON’T PAY YOUR TAXES!  THIEF!  THIEF!  YOU MUST PAY TAXES OR YOUR VIEWS DON’T COUNT AND THE PAPERS CAN’T PRINT THEM SO THERE!  LA LA LA“.

3.  Assorted business leaders pile in to support Mr Pessina and criticise Labour’s apparent anti-business agenda.

4.  Labour sends Ed Balls onto Newsnight to limit the damage.  Yes, that’s right.  The man who David Cameron named as “the most annoying person in modern politics“.  The man who Russell Brand called a “clicky-wristed, snidey c*nt“.  The man who a fantastic Daily Mash article referred to as a “bumptious little tw*t“.  The man who remains the only person in Britain that could become Chancellor and make the current incumbent look like a national treasure.  The man who could cause wall paint in an empty room to liquify, reform on his skin and suffocate him.  That man.

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Sure enough, things didn’t go too well as Mr Balls got lost trying to locate some charm to turn on with Emily Maitlis, fresh from making ‘Dapper Laughs’ squirm like the little toad that he is.

Ms Maitlis asked Mr Balls why so few prominent business figures back Labour compared to 2005.  Balls replied that there were actually loads.  He’d just had dinner with some of them.

Maitlis saw her chance and pounced with a steely gaze and persistence not seen since Tommy DeVito gave Henry Hill the runaround in Goodfellas.

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Who?

Huh?

Who?  Name them.

Well, em.  B-Bill.

Bill f*cking who?” she pressed Balls, summoning her inner Joe Pesci and waiting for the punchline to a bad knock knock joke.

It’s gone from my head, which is a bit annoying at this time of night,” Balls grinned nervously, tossing a line he’d fed to Yvette Cooper a couple of times.  But Maitlis ain’t the sort of girl to forgive early arrival.

Ok.  So you’ve got Bill somebody.  Bill?  Is that the best you can do?  Bill?  F*cking Bill?

I’m paraphrasing slightly, but you get the gist.  It later emerged that Balls was thinking of Bill Thomas, the former Executive Vice-President of EDS EMEA.  Embarassingly, he’s also been Chair of Labour’s Small Business Taskforce since 2012.

Having overseen $12billion in annual revenue at EDS, Bill is certainly wadded but judge for yourselves whether he’s wrinkled and crinkled.

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When this week’s shenanigans are stacked alongside Miliband’s recent rhetoric about corporate “predators” and his party’s plans to create a ‘mansion tax’ and reintroduce the 50p top rate of income tax, it’s easy to see why many consider Labour in its current guise to be anti-business.

However, respected commentators, such as Philip Collins of The Times, deny this is actually the case.  They also make a decent argument that Labour has a better answer than the Tories to economic recovery: a “supply-side revolution” involving higher spending on infrastructure, a greater emphasis on science and more focus on training Britain’s workforce.

Even if this is true, Miliband’s making a ham-fisted effort at informing the voters.  His mediocre message this week led one former Labour minister, Geoffrey Robinson, to urge him to win back business quickly as he’s allowed the wrong “mood music” to play.

If Robinson’s right, and it’s the mood music preventing Labour from getting into the voter’s pants, this shouldn’t be a surprise.  It’s what happens when you take lessons in pulling from Douglas Alexander.

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

Last week, in a post entitled A Little Less Conversation, I was dreaming of a General Election campaign in which political parties (and, as a result, the press) spend their money publicising policies not printing posters lacking the sophistication of a Tipexed bellend on a desk lid.

In an addendum the following day, mention was made of Ed Miliband’s timely and similar sentiment, with the obvious caveat that – unless the bigger boys across the Commons follow suit – he’s left looking like a turkey voting to boycott Christmas.

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Well, it’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.

While Ed sat by the phone waiting for the Tories to return his call, Douglas Alexander (Labour’s so-called election ‘strategist’) echoed his plea in a written message to Labour Party supporters.  Wee Dougie, who couldn’t look more like a schoolyard victim if his y-fronts were tangled round his tonsils, wrote: “The Tories have now bought up hundreds of billboard poster sites on high streets across the country for the months of March and April to run their negative personalised adverts.  It already seems clear that in their campaign the Tories intend to spread falsehood, fear and smear.”  

Coughing up mouthfuls of mucky water he’d inhaled in the midst of a prolonged bogwash, he added: “The Tories will dig deep into their donors’ pockets – and plumb new depths – in their desperation to cling on in government.”

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Now, Dougie might be right, but he faces two big problems.

The first is that his message would sound more high-minded and principled if Labour: (a) hadn’t gleefully engaged in silly bugger billboarding in the very recent past; (b) had any chance of winning a slanging match between ‘Dapper Dave’ and ‘Uncomfortable-in-his-own-skin Ed’; or (c) had the financial backing to compete in a PowerPoint pissing contest even if it wanted to.

The second problem is that whenever turkeys pick up placards proclaiming “BOYCOTT!  BOYCOTT!”, the press can’t resist decorating their reports with pictures of beautifully succulent, golden turkey crowns glistening on decadent beds of roast potatoes crisped in goose fat.  Likewise, when Dougie squeals, “I won’t do what the Tories are doing”, the newspapers print what the Tories are doing.

Take a glance at the coverage of Dougie’s message on the websites of the Daily Mail, The Telegraph, The Independent and The Guardian:

  • all four included the recent Tory poster depicting a portly Miliband bro-mancing Alex Salmond and Gerry Adams outside No. 10 before, presumably, heading for an early night while his amigos went off to tear up the town;
  • none mentioned a single policy Dougie wants everyone to focus on.  Left-leaning The Guardian even added an unattributed quote claiming his party had failed to obtain usual levels of funding due to a perceived “lack of clarity about what would be in the Labour manifesto“;
  • The Telegraph tied its article to an odd photo of Miliband cast in shadow against a sandy background, perhaps suggesting to Labour it would be kinder to withdraw their man from the limelight and send him to join the Foreign Legion.

“What’s that, Dougie?  Stop hitting you?  I’m not hitting you: you’re hitting yourself.  STOP HITTING YOURSELF, DOUGIE!”

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So what is Labour’s election strategy, other than not doing the thing they know they can’t do as well as the other lot?  Well, Dougie has one, don’t you worry.

He wants to chat.  Like, a lot.  Four million times to be precise, in what’s been billed as the biggest door-stopping campaign since Danny Baker ding-donged doorbells from Dorchester to Dumfries for Daz demonstrations.  This time, the soap box will take an even more prominent role, as Miliband told party activists that, with their help, he’ll be “making our case, explaining our vision, house by house, street by street, town by town”.

Although this has the makings of a zombie horror spoof, at first glance Dougie’s plan looks foolproof: if you can’t get your policies across in the press, cut out the middle man and head straight for the voter.

But voters can be equally cloth-eared, especially when some berk in a Saville Row suit interrupts their day to discuss political theory.  To misquote Tarantino’s Jules Winnfield, they’ve got to be a charming mother****ing politician to persuade me to endorse them while my kids are fighting in the lounge, the pasta’s boiling dry on the hob and a Lego brick’s just punctured the ball of my foot.

And here’s the other thing, Dougie: just because the Shadow Cabinet colleagues you meet once a week are the only people who’ll talk to you without taking your lunch money, it doesn’t mean they’re nice or normal.  In Ed Balls’ case (and I presume, by extension, Ms Cooper’s), they’re neither.

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So it’s a gamble, Dougie.  And for your gamble to have any chance of paying off, you need to brush up and screen test the twerps around your table an awful more than you’re doing at the moment, because those people behind those doors might actually ask your MPs some questions.

Like yesterday, for example, when your esteemed leader was invited along to a gentle Q&A event for Sky News and Facebook, and was asked by a normal punter what experience he had outside of politics to show that he could represent the British people.

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Here was Ed’s chance: an open goal.  “Well, I had a pretty gruelling paper round for the Morning Star … um, Daily Star,” he could have said.  “And then I had to save up for university, so I became a brickie by day and, by night, a go-go dancer at an underground rave venue.  Having to juggle two jobs, not to mention all the glow sticks, means I understand the struggles faced by ordinary men and women up and down the country.”

Or, if he didn’t do those things, he could have been upfront about it.  Instead, Edward Samuel Miliband trusted his instincts to freestyle his way into the affections of a nation.  Despite an uncertain start (“I’ve done a number of things which I think, I hope, are relevant to this“), he knocked this one out of the park by connecting with every working man and woman who’s worked as an economic adviser to the Treasury and taught government and economics at Harvard.

His Ronny Rosenthal moment could only have been more embarrassing if Paxman been there to pull his big, rubbery horse-face of mock incredulity (©Malcolm Tucker) and repeat the question until Miliband combusted.

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So then, Dougie: time to earn your money.  If you don’t, it’s very hard to imagine that the turkeys will be the ones gobbling on Christmas Day.