None of the above

THREE score and seventeen days ago, our leader brought forth on this nation a new election, conceived in security, and dedicated to the proposition that all parties are not created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that election, or any result so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure…

It seems odd to be paraphrasing a speech of 1863, but it fits the past 57 days all too well.

The snap judgement that snapped

Back in April, the Labour Party appeared to be in complete disarray.

Hmmm, best forget appearances. They were in complete disarray.

The front bench had pretty much all resigned late in 2016, leaving barely enough MPs prepared to be seen in the same town as their leader, let alone on the same front bench.

They realised after their actions during the 2016 referendum that unless a miracle occurred, they’d be kicked out come the next election. After which then they’d need to get a real job. Just like Nigel Porridge had before he MEPed* over to Brussels to heckle the hackles of the barely-employed politicos in the Euro-chamber(s).

With the party trailing by a country mile in the polls, the blue vultures circling high in the sky overhead, the body of the Labour party was well on the way to looking like a corpse.

The media, especially the visual media, seemed unable to portray Jeremy Corbyn positively.

It’s mildly embarrassing to admit that at the time I’d said privately that Labour could be facing a meltdown. One of less than 50 seats proportion. How wrong that now looks.

Those who would want to understand the 2017 result, first need to understand 2016’s and 2015’s. And it isn’t easy.

Caught with their manifestos down

Conservatives’ early messaging was for strong and stable government, with a proper mandate to run the country and lead the Brexit negotiations which we were reminded were due to start just eleven days after the election.

But where were the manifestos and more importantly what did they say?

You can’t go round the country just saying “strong and stable” can you???

What’s that – you mean somebody did ?

It didn’t take the media long to cotton on to this and before you knew it, the key messaging had been hijacked, turned upside down and turned into a joke.

When Rab C Nesbitt, that unshaven string-vest-wearing slob from Glasgow, stages a comeback, he’ll “nae doot be promisin’ a string and stubble Govan, meant wi’ hooms for zeroos”.

Meanwhile, back in the “real world” of the election, the chance to maintain the political initiative was draining away, and there were now not one, but two leaders looking haggard.

The gaffes that kept on gaffing …

Whether it was a complete accident, or a sublime piece of political tactics, the leaking of the Labour manifesto couldn’t have achieved a better result.

In the dry-as-dust grounds of the election desert, even a few leaked words were like a mighty torrent.

Labour MPs were delighted, boosting all the bits they liked and giving bland denials for the bits they didn’t as “it hasn’t been published yet”.

As the days ticked by with little else to talk about, attention turned to what the “high-paid help” aka senior politicians were doing and saying.

This wasn’t much, but whether it was hunting for numbers, hunting for foxes, or just putting the bins out religiously; we didn’t need Spitting Image, the leading characters were lampooning themselves quite well enough and didn’t need help.

It was a blessed relief when the manifestos start being published on May 22 and 23, almost five weeks after the election was announced. But some weren’t to appear until May 30 – just nine days before the election.

What this exposed were the cynical calculations that were going on, as well as the shambolic way in which the politics of this country has continued to be mismanaged.

Also in the last nine days, “Election Spy” started up on TV.

A daily five minute dose of ‘satire on steroids’ encapsulating the latest blunders that four of the parties had met that day.

This was telly for the Twitbook generation. And a clear warning for the rest of us.

… and the gifts that kept on giving

Call me a numpty if you like, but the manifestos are the parties’ opportunity to put forward their business plans; their marketing proposals; and their forward thinking. All for voters to consider when making their choice in the polling booth.

These need to be a mix of the rock solid – the promises if you will; the plans – ever hostage to events; lastly the ideas for the future - the good the bad and the ugly.

As things turned out, the manifestos were simply ghastly. Each one took days to read, great swathes of them were unintelligible and as for “fully-costed” I reckon some pols are living in la-la land. They wouldn't recognise a fully costed plan if it bit them on the bottom.

It was also clear from the lakes of red ink that covered each of the four I’d read that these things hadn’t been exactly “thought through”.

At first, I thought this was me, but from the general uproar it was soon apparent that they hadn’t been. A single graphic showing support for Mrs May by age of voter demonstrated that the appeal was directly proportional to the age above 18.

So for those of a more mature age and experience, taking away your home via the dementia tax; your income by removing the triple lock; your heating by cutting the winter fuel allowance; your travel by terminating the bus passes was all a gift.

For the oppositions, as well as the meeja, especially the telly. By now I was fairly sure they couldn’t count to three. Even getting to two was a struggle for some bluetopped-blondes (of all genders orientations and hair length).

Fog in channel, electorate isolated

I say oppositions – with an “s” – but thanks to the apparent inability of broadcast media to count to three, it was hard to see any colours other than red or blue.

An occasional Scottish twang was heard, but nothing from Northern Ireland or Greens. It seemed that even UKIP, the daaahhhlings of telly in 2016 were kept on a starvation diet. As for the Liberal Democrats – they might as well have been on another planet for all the meeja cared.

But the fog lifted occasionally as “red one”, the lost-leader now morphing into the loss-leader (complete with the national piggy bank) continued his rapid rehabilitation programme and decided to enter the fray of the second leaders debate in Cambridge. At least having six out of seven wasn’t bad as one was a bit lost somewhere in the country - St Trinian’s perhaps?

However, this debate did something unique in one household in the borough. For the first time since 1977, complete agreement on an important matter of national politics – not only on the main outcome, but on the sidebar topics as well. Total agreement that the star of the show had been Tim Farron. (For telly viewers only, he’s the Liberal Democrat leader).

Sadly it wasn’t to last - the stardom that is.

Andrew Neill was no nastier in his interview with Mr Farron than he was with the other leaders. Indeed, Nicola Sturgeon’s reputation was shot to pieces, at least on Education, to say nothing of Independence Referenda.

But Mr Farron’s interview was an end-to-end car crash.

Meanwhile, in the streets, the house-to-house campaigners continued unabated. But not undaunted.

How we voted Nationally and Locally

That 10pm exit poll. How we voted locally in Wokingham, Maidenhead, Bracknell and Reading East. What does it all mean? Has the UK turned into a two-party state? (with three indicators as to yes or no) …

… together with an introductory “Brenda from Bristol bonus” can all be found online at www.wokinghampaper.com/commentnone-of-the-above

Where’s a GNU when you need one?

If Brexit is to mean Brexit and not wrecks it, then our negotiating team needs to be the very best we’ve got. It’s as simple as that.

And while Mr Corbyn may be smiling because he’s just confounded his own parliamentary party (the first Labour leader to do so quite so convincingly in my memory), he’s well short of being able to establish a viable alternative to the potentially peace-wrecking chaos that his main opponent is attempting.

However his team has some good thinking and actively helpful points of view, as do others – especially those with experience of negotiating UK participation in the first place.

And while the situation is as confusing and difficult as it is, easily equal to the post-depression politics of the 1930s, the country could be better served by a form of government which we’ve not seen since then – a government of national unity – GNU for short.

To southern / central Africans, a GNU is a genus of antelope, often called a wildebeest.

And if we can put a team of political wild-beasts together in the coming days, we might just have a chance to negotiate something sensible for all of the country for a decent time to come.

As well as getting the Euronegotiators on the back foot amd (possibly) keeping them there while we negotiate.

And if we really get it right, (ever optimistic) there’s a chance that we can solve the problems of the EU for ourselves so well …

… that the other 26 countries might wish to adopt our solution too.

I make that totally BrexIN. Wouldn’t that be a turn-up ?

* A bit like schlepped, but less of the middle high German (or Yiddish or New Yoik-er depending on your world-view).