ONCE UPON a time, many years ago, I seriously considered standing for election against an arrogant, lazy and corrupt local councillor – a bloke who, amongst other things, refused to vote against the party line when an illegal gypsy camp opened up on the primary school playing field.
What put me off in the end was the sheer logistics involved. As an Independent candidate, bereft of the support of a party machine, I’d have had to do everything myself. I’d have had to pay for the leaflets and posters myself, do all the dreadful door-stepping myself, write my own supportive letters in false names to the local press and spread my own, libelous, internet smears against rivals. It was just too much to take on.
In the event, the sitting candidate was returned because no-one in that part of town could bring themselves to vote for the Tories while the Liberal candidate was caught in a compromising position with another gentleman on the local park four days before the vote.
Now come the next election, whether that be in October or June, the disgraceful trough-snouting of the current incumbents is certain to inspire a wave of white-suited, shining knights in honest armour, eager to turn back the tide of sleaze that has engulfed the present system. But they will all face the same problems I did, only more so in a General Election scenario.
But wait, I have an answer – the Tesco Party. Yes, the Tesco Party.
Think about it. If the retail giant was to offer every potential Independent candidate the services of its nationwide network, suddenly taking on the big boys would be a distinct possibility. You’d have a least one established base in every constituency, a place to hold meetings and Saturday morning surgeries. You’d have access to advertising expertise, top class designers and the economies of scale offered by volume printing.
You’d have Tesco’s massive email database to work with and you’d know the demographics of every potential voter: “Do you have a Clubcard? Ah, yes, Mr Jones. You like Findus Crispy Pancakes, are partial to a can or two of Wife-Beater and you want to send the darkies back where they came from.”
It’s so blindingly obvious – and such a massive contribution to the democratic process – that I’m amazed no-one’s thought of it before. I may write to Sir Terry Leahy in the morning. After all, every little helps. Or is that Asda?
I WAS highly amused that UKIP has demanded a re-run of the European elections because of the way the ballot paper was folded. Apparently, because it is one of the last parties in alphabetical order, its name fell below the crease of the folded ballot paper.
Nigel Farage, the phony who claims to be actively campaigning against our membership of the EU while pocketing around £2million in salary and expenses, said the way the paper was folded made it look as if UKIP was not on the ballot paper at all.
I’d make two points. Wouldn’t the idiot be better waiting for the result before demanding a re-run of an election in which his party allegedly stands a good chance of beating Labour into fourth place? And secondly, are we really sure that people who can’t manage to unfold a piece of paper should have the vote in the first place?