It’s time to have your say
TOMORROW the talking – mostly utter ballots – is over.
Thursday, December 12 is the day an exhausted nation staggers to the polls to collectively decide whether a rock or a hard place is preferable.
Tempting as it is to scrawl “none of the above” or draw a vomit emoji on your ballot paper it is important we all vote.
Cliches abound but people did die for our democratic rights and if you don’t have your say you can’t complain about the result.
Many of us still have no idea which way to jump and feel like we’re drowning in a swamp of dodgy policies, blatantly unworkable promises and downright lies.
Not to mention sheer nastiness. Never has an election been so toxic or a bunch of politicians so openly self-obsessed, spiteful and, let’s be honest, thick.
Social media is full of folk proudly proclaiming: “Vote Labour to Save the NHS.” Very few though are boasting about voting Tory. Because, basically, that seems to equate to admitting that you’re a xenophobic racist who’d flog our health service off to Trump.
So much hate, so little time.
Then there’s the fact that if you support Labour you’re a Jew loathing Holocaust denier who thinks Hitler might have had a point.
No! It’s entirely possible to be an ordinary, caring person and vote for either of our two main parties. Or even the Brexit Party or Lib Dems.
Why does it all have to be so damn malicious all the time? Why does someone disagreeing with our political viewpoint these days make us so damn angry?
Then there’s tactical voting which feels a bit like cheating. Because the end result doesn’t reflect anything real at all. Voting for a party whose policies you don’t agree with simply to stop a party you despise slightly more is surely plain wrong.
What has made our current state of political lunacy even more mind numbing is that everything has changed. Neither Labour nor Conservative are what they once were.
Posh London luvvies in million pound homes are flocking to the cult of Corbyn while working-class northerners are actually thinking upperclass Bullingdon Boy Boris has their best interests at heart. Throw in the fact you’ve got John Major slagging off his party and Tony Blair slating his and your head really does start to explode.
Remember a whole bunch of doctors begging politicians not to weaponise the NHS not so long ago? Well, that went out the window faster than Putin firing up his alleged army of election-rigging bots.
When Bozza screams Brexit, Jezza just screeches NHS even louder. And both of them manage to make their embarrassing team members disappear.
Starting to think Jacob Rees-Mogg and Diane Abbott have eloped together, so little have we seen or heard of them. I’m fervently praying they don’t actually breed though.
In 48 hours’ time we’ll either be in a better place, a worse place or back where we started. And I’m not sure any of us could cope with that. But spare a thought for dear old Santa who is due here two weeks today, though surely he’ll give us a swerve this year?
Because, as a Greek, he’ll be worried about Brexit and all immigrants being shot, while Rudolph will be panicking about getting his red nose checked out in A&E in case he’s left to die on a trolley.
Still it is Christmas so let’s try to replace Project Fear with something more festive. Project Beer anyone?