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The Crack Magazine

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Snapper

“There is something to be said for every MP to be sacked and replaced by non Oxbridge common folk…”

Sorry to anyone hoping for a bit less politics, or hoping for one of those Snapper columns when I go off script and start writing about my time in the Nicaraguan jungle in the eighties, or the time I was in training to kidnap Boris Johnson and take him to a re-education centre somewhere near Hartlepool Library, but, you know, needs must when the Tory devil drives. Although tbh any stripe of political devil would lead pretty much to where we’re driving to at the moment. There is something to be said for every MP to be sacked and replaced by non Oxbridge common folk who understand stuff like climate change, late capitalism and why fish and chips taste awful south of the St. Bees/Whitby line of demarcation. Why? Because we seem to be yoked to a bunch of political lightweights with absolutely no policies beyond short-term talk of lower taxes, making Brexit work and ‘don’t do as we doism’. Sure, there are differences in approach and extremity, but we all know our current political class talk with forked tongue, as anyone who’s being paying attention is already making plans to strap themselves in to a coming world of rationed heat, light and water while munching on cold baked beans and wondering whether this is the kind of climate change/Brexit bounce all those Brexiteers promised us. Still, what politician would appear on any format and open with the line, “Your days of plenty are over”. Hardly the line to tug those floating voters to one’s side. But more honesty would appeal. Well, would appeal to me at least, and possibly to my comrades in Nicaragua and Hartlepool. Anyone else? Probably not. Most have succumbed to the LSD laced political tit or the happy pills. Three Monkey politics as espoused by our blinkered political masters whose only job it is to keep things dashing along as normally as possible: “The beaches are open, folks, carry on as you are, there’s no truth to the four sharks of the apocalypse story that’s doing the rounds”. Missing limb? Just a flesh wound, carry on there! The Brexitania roar, “Come back here…I’ll bite your legs off!” Of course, our present lot of political masters aka The Tory Party aka The Nasty Party aka The Scumbag Party, are proving to be masters of this kind of thing. Bloated claims of good times at the end of the rainbow. Egregious lies about tax cuts leading us from recession and inflation to the golden uplands of peace and prosperity. Fairy tale politics to appeal to their moneyed and influential base of trolls and goblins whose only care in the world is the upkeep of their twinset and pearls and the butcher’s apron flying outside their country estates somewhere in middle England. Anyone else who believes this and votes Tory are the kind of useful idiots I need to sign up to my classes at the Hartlepool re-education centre. You know it makes sense.

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