Friends, today I am—as the French say—hungover as shit. But for the life of me I can’t figure out wh—…
Now, eloquent pieces have already been written about Jeremy Corbyn’s stunning, historic victory—and make no mistake, it is a victory—so aside from the following quote from the Jonathan Cook article I just linked I won’t be adding much to the volume of words today. Here, Cook’s words:
In short, Corbyn has proved himself the most popular Labour leader with the electorate in more than 40 years, apart from Blair’s landslide victory in 1997. But let’s recall the price Blair paid for that very small margin of improvement over Corbyn’s vote. Behind the scenes, he sold Labour’s soul to the City, the corporations and their lobbyists. That Faustian pact secured Blair the backing of most of the media, including Rupert Murdoch’s stable of papers and TV channel. The corporations mobilised their entire propaganda machine to get Blair into power. And yet he managed it with only 2 percentage points more than Corbyn, who had that same propaganda machine railing against him.
Also, unlike Corbyn, Blair did not have to endure a large section of his own party trying to destroy him from within.
That is the true mark of Corbyn’s achievement.
To be honest, I probably couldn’t add too many words even if I tried. I am anchored to ineptitude by this hangover.
So I gotta keep it simple. The fight is not over. But right now is a time for celebration.
So my thesis is thus:
SUCK IT, MAYBOT!
STRONG AND STABLE MY ARSE!
Ouch. You know what? That hurts.
BUT WHO CARES, TODAY PAIN’S NOT A THING!
Change is possible. Hope can win.
So says Jeremy Corbyn, THE KING IN ISLINGTON NORTH!