I have been asked by so many people if I can elaborate further on yesterday’s blog, I can’t. Some things are very personal and not for the blogosphere.

 

That’s the problem with blogging; you can slip into self indulgence without knowing. When I blog its four minutes of a brain to fingers dump. I don’t plan or think about it beforehand. There are no notes or research – I literally sit, type, check for any glaring grammar mistakes, click save, done.

 

I suppose yesterday was an attempt at symbolising how awful things can sometimes be, and how nothing lasts forever.

 

In 1997 the Conservative party hit the worst of days. It’s equivalent of my dark night. And yet here we are now with a solid and sustained lead in the polls and a bright and golden future. We have a leader who feels what others do and who knows exactly what matters. He see’s a Labour party in panic, void of ideas and direction, and smiles and waits. Well wouldn’t you?

 

Labour MPs are miserable, especially those who know they are about to lose their seats at the next general election. They in turn are putting pressure on the leadership who are spinning around like headless chickens. “What to do” you hear them squawk as they run up and down corridors and in and out of offices, feathers ruffled.

 

On the committee corridor Michael Meacher sits on a bench with his left wingers, “not before Thursday” I hear him say as the gaggle move in closer. Not in this lifetime Michael I think as I walk past – you are about to enter your darkest days.

Well Nadine, your description of the Labour Party in disarray, headless chickens, squawking, feathers ruffled and gaggle are all bird related but where are the sheep? Where are the ostriches? Is fiction turning into reality? Why is it that George Orwell's classic 'Animal Farm' springs to mind?

With the revelation in today's Telegraph that Jack is emerging as the favorite for the job of Chancellor in Gordy Brown's Cabinet (God help us)perhaps this solves the mystery of his obsession with Nadine. As a Fellow of the Royal Statistical Society, could it be that he is merely interested in Nadines vital ones?