So now we wait. The general election is coming with all the momentum of an exhausted steam train on the brink of being decommissioned. That means that all the various parties involved now need to scramble to edit any half scrawled manifestos and badly thought through promises to the point of being ready to present to the public.
We’re not getting the usual electioneering ramp up (which I think that a vote-fatigued public are resentfully grateful for) and a distinct lack of television debates so there will only be so many opportunities for potential members of parliament to trot out enticing carrots to convince people to cast their ballot for them. They’re going to say anything because they can. For all we know, we’ll be descending into World War Three long before anyone gets the slightest opportunity to enact any of their election pledges or yet another vote for something else we hadn’t been expecting will be sprung upon us.
I’ve taken to shouting at the radio (because no one can hear me and even if other drivers notice my incoherent rage they’ll assume it’s directed at the vehicle in front of me rather than the politician spewing out unverifiable platitudes and expecting us to simply go with the flow. Or people who just want the Brexit process over and done with, I still fail to understand why you voted the way you did and what precisely you’re expecting to happen) because shrieking into the social media void doesn’t seem to be getting the message across.
If you happen to be standing in this election (maybe you’re hoping to fill the imminently vacant shoes of George Osborne as that seems to lead to incredibly lucrative things) then just stand on your soapbox and spew forth anything you reckon the folk out there want to hear. No one will ever call you on it, honest.
Say anything – Tristan Prettyman