One Indescribable Daydream

It’s inadvisable to help too much when it comes to politics. You heap all your prayers and imaginings on a public figure who can never hope to meet them. Then, Obama-style they have to slog through the realities of government to the point that the system has beaten them down and the next guy seems intent with a laser like focus on unravelling everything you managed to achieve during your tenure. Or take Mr Corbyn, a radical funtime candidate who manages to say a lot of appealing things. Who can guarantee he’d be able to translate those admirable principles into meaningful legislature.

And yet, now on election eve, in spite of Brexit and the gut punch of the election two years ago and all those shamefaced shy Tories, it’s hard not to daydream. We started this election cycle off disgusted with Theresa May but glum in the face of the prospect of a massive Tory landslide. Somehow this has developed as the campaign has gone on into yet more disgust with Theresa May (hiding from the people who want to ask her questions, furious about-turning on all manner of pledges and showing general disdain for those she’s so intent on governing) and the slim chance of something different the other side of Thursday.

Deep down, I know the Conservatives will return with an almost definitely elevated majority. Somehow though, I can’t uncross my fingers and settle up to reality. It didn’t go the way we thought it would on Brexit or Trump. What if we’re wrong again? No government is perfect, they do have a lot of difficult decisions to make. I can’t help but idealise though and believe that it would be better for those decision makers to reckon that it would be more in the public interest to get away from that damaging mindset that the poor are scroungers and the rich deserve another tax break because of their wealthy awesomeness.

Song choices courtesy of: Lea Salonga and David Bowie


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