The leaders debased

I listened to the leaders debate on the radio this evening and I waited for it to take off, and I waited, and then I waited some more.
Ninety minutes of listening to what sounded, and may well have looked, like three products of Jim Hensons creature shop. I could hear in every breath and syllable the workings and coachings of a multitude of advisors and spin doctors, much as every muscle twitch and eye movement of Jim Hensons creatures are controlled by an unseen operator.

The lack of any audience response being allowed made the squeaking of buzz words and phrases being shoe horned in almost deafening. If you've told me your constituency is Sheffield I've got that I don't need it repeating every time you refer to it. "Bring in the personal anecdotes it'll make you seem human" No it didn't, you could hear the beginning and end of every learnt paragraph.
I know soldiers are brave you do not need to constantly preface 'soldier' with brave every single sodding time it's mentioned. As for the Mr Memory act of listing every questioners name, was anyone else half listening for Eric Morecambe coughing "Arsenal"
Gordon Browns pursuit of Nick Clegg like an oversexed student on Freshers night determined to get laid was frankly embarrasing, apparently to Nick Clegg as well.

Gentlemen if you want my vote assemble all your voice coaches, body language experts, sociologists, sephologists and any other ologists lurking under a desk or behind a curtain and in the immortal words of Norman Stanley Fletcher tell them all to Naff Off.
Because all three of you had what I believe Golfers call the Yips, you were so bloody scared of getting it wrong you never even hit the ball.

For the next one can we please have a debate and not another well rehearsed and choreographed Political Come Dancing.

A three hoarse race

Well, in the words of Fast Eddie Felson "Hey, I'm back"

Just a brief where have I been. I haven't actually been anywhere but I found I didn't really have enough time to blog as well as concentrate on a creative writing course. Will I actually ever complete writing anything for publication or performance? Not certain but I'm a lot closer than I was before the course.

Well we're nearing the end, will they perform well on the day or will the competition prove too much. Just one misplaced step or stumble and the oposition will score and then only the return legs to try and pull it back.

No not football but who gets to wreck, (sorry run) our country for the next 5 years. Who are you backing, Charisma Bypass, Posh Boy or The Cleggie.
Make no mistake as that's what it's mostly about. The media have made sure that now more than ever before it's a presidential election.
So it's a choice between a dour Scot who seems happier the worst things get and for all the world I can't get John Laurie out of my head whenever I see him, "Doomed, we're all doomed I tell ee"

Or the digitally botoxed posh boy who constantly does his damnedest to be one of the lads and fails miserably on most occasions. No matter how often he rolls his sleeves up and loosens his tie he still oozes Eton from every pore.

Cleggie, who seems to push Uncle Vince forward on numerous occasions with that sort of  "My uncle will sort you out" attitude of the bullied schoolboy is frankly going to be, as always an also ran.

But wait just a moment, coming last in this race may just be the best option. The power broker in a hung parliament. Sitting on the bar like the midget Mordecai in High Plains Drifter relishing the power and influence after years of ridicule.

I don't suppose there's any small chance I can vote SNP is there?