Thursday, 29 April 2010

Bigotgate - the power of a small blog

I suppose it had to happen eventually. A couple of weeks ago my modest corner of blogology was referred to in The Independent newspaper. Those with their finger on the national pulse were alerted to my presence. That much is obvious, now I must make some inferences.

On this blog I usually wibble on about matters of politics or economics, so who is most likely to have become engrossed by my humble offerings once their attention was directed this way by The Independent? I infer it must be people with an interest in politics and economics. Perhaps they read a couple of offerings and decided to delve further, I know I would when first presented with such rich fare. Were I a senior politician facing constant criticism for both his past policy decisions and his public demeanour I would seek guidance from those with better judgment. Is it fanciful to believe that Dr James Gordon Brown has turned to my humble self for that guidance?

Surely that must be the explanation for his outburst against the most famous grandmother in Rochdale. Faced by a supporter of his party who put her legitimate concerns to him clearly and politely he must have been full of thanks that for once he had met an "ordinary" person who didn't consider him a mendacious incompetent. On flopping back into the ministerial limo after the stress of having to talk to a normal person for five minutes he must have been overjoyed. My reaction in that situation would have been to say "how refreshing honest that lady was, clear, polite and ready to give me help on difficult policy issues without demand of a peerage in return; what a charming, insightful and positive person she is." No doubt that was also his reaction.

Then there was the hitch caused by his regular meetings with Dr Shrink from the funny farm, meetings that concentrate on word association exercises. The sumptuous leather of the ministerial vehicle must have matched exactly that of Dr Shrink's special therapy couch. For a moment he was transported to those restful sessions with the provider of his happy pills. He was in full-blown word-association mode. His mind said "charming, insightful and positive", it flitted from there to the charming, insightful and positive words I have offered here for his delectation and, as night follows day, he had to say "Bigot".

This explanation is corroborated by the forty minutes it took him to explain to his victim how the misunderstanding arose. He could hardly say "sorry Mrs Duffy I mistook you for a fat lawyer in North London" and expect her to know what he meant. It takes time to explain things to those who are, perhaps, not already acquainted with ones source of inspiration.

I won't be given credit, of course, such is the way of modern politics. Nonetheless it is gratifying to know that I have played my part in the great election pantomime.


TheFatBigot said...

I thought this was one of my best, and not a comment after 24 hours. Now, where did I leave those cyanide capsules ... ...

Umbongo said...

What is there to add? You've clearly hit this particular nail on the head. The blame Mr Brown attached to "them" - those aliens from Mars masquerading as his advisers - only goes to prove your point and, I guess, that of Dr Shrink (whose professional opinion will be revealed when he feels free to publish his memoirs).

john miller said...

Bugger, I wish I'd read it 24 hours earlier. And I was going to say all this before I spied that you had commented on your own blog.

I often read but rarely comment. Saying "Well done" or "That's absolutely right" is a bit boring for a commenter. I know that I would be grateful for even the direst comment, were I a blogger - something that I contemplated, but decided I didn't have the energy for.

So let me say this, sincerely - if you can, after a life in the law, believe such a thing:

I was going to make one of my very rare (perhaps as rare as unique, I can't remember, it's the claret you know) comments and say what a stroke of genius it was to put up this post, that the Muse must have guided your hand and that it was your best ever.