This is what happens when you mix up the local accident and emergency department with the nearest apiary. Yeah, that didn’t really happen. I just thought that stung wasn’t quite the correct word to use for what actually transpired. I don’t know, perhaps Ed’s feelings were rather stung by the actions of the patients. You can judge for yourselves (I know you would anyway even without my permission but it’s a good precedent for me to continue to act as if I’m in charge).
You know what Ed’s like. He’s desperately craving the approval of the wider world. It’s never been enough for him that he somehow prevailed over his brother. He feels exactly the same way about the victory as we do: numb disbelief over which sibling won the day. It probably won’t be sufficient for him to beat out David Cameron for the country’s top spot. Anyway, this is all relatively beside the point (but I promise that it has some vague relevance or I’d never have bothered to bring it up).
Pretty much anything a politician does these days if for the photo opportunity. We all know that they’re dancing after the limelight in the hope that they’ll be able to clutch a vote or two away from whoever’s making the biggest smell of their opposition. Little did Ed know when he turned up at the hospital that he was going to get far more than he’d ever reckoned on bargaining for.
They jeered. They threw things. They asked difficult questions that got the Labour leader all of a muddle and he tripped over his words. Shamefaced, he ran so very far away. However, through the delights of social media and a very active press presence, we still get to know all about it. And Ed learned an important lesson; there’s no pleasing sick people unless you come bearing drugs.