Politics? Reality is Kez could emerge as media star
For eleven happy minutes at the start of this month, President Donald Trump’ s triggerhappy thumbs were thwarted.
His Twitter account had been mysteriously de-activated. After a year of a presidency l argely conducted in 140 characters, this was the day that the ‘ covfefe’ briefly died.
Turning off Trump’s Twitter was the final act of a customer services employee as they headed out the door; the kind of thumb-your-nose gesture that many of us fantasise about, but rarely act on.
Before Top Gear, James May worked for a car magazine where one of his most hated jobs was pulling together the annual review of the year.
He finally exited after using the red capitals that began each section to spell out: ‘So you think it’s really good, yeah? You should try making the bloody thing up.’
Then there’s the bravery of rT presenter Liz Wahl, who turned her decision to quit the Kremlinbacked news station into her final news story, announcing that she couldn’t be part of a network funded by the russian government that whitewashed the actions of Putin any more.
To go with a bang, not a whimper, takes nerve. But it’s hard not to read Kezia Dugdale’s journey from MSP to campfire guest on I’m a Celebrity... Get Me out of Here! as a parting gesture of defiance.
She will make her debut on the ITV reality show having ignored Scottish Labour and flown out to Australia.
The message she’s sending can be seen from space: she’d rather sleep among rats and snakes than hang out with Labour’s backbiters.
It’s odd that so many Scottish politicians get drawn to reality showcases: George Galloway impersonated a cat on Celebrity Big Brother, Alex Salmond is now dispensing quaichs like Crackerjack pencils on rT, and then there’s Tommy Sheridan – the moment on Celebrity Big Brother when he pulled wide his pants to deliver a prolonged skoosh of deodorant to his socialist worker haunts me still.
The difference is that while most of these outings seem like end- of- career or career- ending moves, it’s perfectly possible that I’m a Celebrity could be a new beginning for Miss Dugdale.
Until now, we’ve only seen her on-message, working to a Labour script. Suddenly she has the chance to ditch the artifice of political discourse, raise her profile and become her own woman on national TV.
She could return to Holyrood with soft power and a revitalised image – but why would she want to?
It’s a risk, of course, but if anyone can spot the minefields in this format it’s a young politician who, although lacking judgment at times, could never be said to have fallen victim to self-enchantment.
I’m a Celebrity is a test of mettle, emotional intelligence and a tolerance for spiders, but the rewards for Kez could be a career in a media that is crying out for female political commentators with an irreverent streak.
At the very least, she may unite a polarised Scottish electorate to vote her Queen of the Jungle.