Whether you’re prepared to believe it or not (and I can’t help but feel from the tone of one or two of the headlines this morning that there are those out there who just aren’t up for a hearty bowl of facts this fine or otherwise day), quite a few people are really quite on board with the Labour party manifesto. I know so because the newspapers told me as much and I also really want it to be true. That’s how facts work nowadays isn’t it?
Well, believe me when I say that they’re not even close to being done. But let’s leave the manifesto to one side. It’s essentially already won the general election for them with just under a month to go until the polls open. Theresa hasn’t exactly been doing herself any favours by emulating the press blocking dick moves of other foreign leaders and failing to look satisfied when scarfing down a cone of chips. However, Jeremy’s job is already done for him. A white middle aged man is clearly going to wrest the mantle of power away from a lady.
So now it’s time to scope out the wish lists. Manifestos are cast iron pledges that always come to pass when the realities of government and the need to actually fund things set in. Now they can wistfully contemplate the pie in the sky policies that will only really become something resembling real if the government discovers a magic genie lamp hitherto undiscovered among Britain’s assorted treasures pilfered from unsuspecting nations when they weren’t looking.
You know the sort of thing, confiscating the wealth of any rich person the general public decides is looking a bit shifty and then sharing it out among the people for them to fritter away on fripperies like food and rent. And providing adequate funding for the NHS so they can have both staff and equipment. Radical.