Missing Glasto? Why not head on down to Labour Live?
Normally at this time of year, young people are flocking to Glastonbury. But this summer the festival is off. A wise decision. Because a far more exciting festival is taking place today in London – and Glastonbury couldn’t have hoped to compete.
It is, of course, Labour Live: a new annual event held in honour of our future prime minister, Jeremy Corbyn. Here’s all you need to know.
1 Most tickets have been given away free – but don’t be fooled. The mainstream media would have you believe that the organisers had no choice, after discovering that the public didn’t fancy paying £35 a head to watch a load of bands even the organisers had never heard of, a poetry workshop hosted by the editor of The Canary, and a 40-minute speech by the shadow secretary of state for international development on the crisis in Peruvian butterfly farming. In reality, however, Jeremy Corbyn himself decreed that in the name of equality all tickets must be free – to prevent ordinary workingclass people being priced out of the opportunity to witness three Guardian columnists debating trans rights for badgers.
Other attractions will include a piñata in the shape of Tony Blair, a punchbag adorned with the face of Tony Blair, a wicker man containing the real Tony Blair, and, for the religious, a prayer tent, complete with a giant frieze depicting Jeremy feeding the 5,000, plus copies of the holy book, the 2017 Labour manifesto.
3 On the main stage, the headline act will of course be none other than Jeremy himself. He’ll be using his speech to affirm his commitment to workers’ rights, vow to end zero-hour contracts, and pledge to deliver a living wage of at least
£10 an hour. He’ll also call for a special round of applause for the festival’s bar staff, all of whom have so kindly agreed to put the Labour Party’s finances first by working unpaid.
4 The Solidarity Tent will host a number of lively political debates, including “Jeremy Corbyn: 50 Times Better Than Clement Attlee, or Only 40 Times?”, “Stopping Brexit: How Jeremy the Strategic Mastermind is Playing the World’s Longest Ever Long Game, Just Trust Him, He’s Totally Got This”, and “Anyone Who Has Ever Voted Conservative, Including Your Own Parents: Worse Than Ebola?”
5 A team of BBC journalists is expected to report live from the festival. Stalls selling eggs and rotten fruit will be on hand throughout the site.
The most extraordinary match of the last World Cup – perhaps of any World Cup – was the first semi-final, in which Germany walloped Brazil 7-1. I’ll never forget it – partly because of where I watched it. It was the German embassy, in London.
The embassy was screening the match live, and the head of press there – whom I knew through work – invited me to come along, bring a few friends, and enjoy the free beer and sausages. It was a remarkable evening. Not just because of the astonishing scoreline, but because of the way the Germans alongside us reacted to it.
Those of us who weren’t German were practically in hysterics. We’d never seen anything like it. One-nil, two-nil, three-nil, four! And the game had barely begun! Was it real? Was it actually happening? By the time the Germans’ fifth goal flew in, we’d collapsed in helpless giggles. Not that we found it funny. It was just a weird, involuntary reaction to something we didn’t know how to process emotionally. Like bursting into laughter at a funeral.
Yet the Germans watching the match with us remained utterly calm. Almost eerily serene. They took the whole thing in their stride, as if annihilating the greatest footballing nation in the world, on their own soil, was a perfectly natural outcome. Their attitude seemed to be: “Five-nil up, away to Brazil, after 29 minutes? Yes, zis seems a satisfactory performance, so far.”
In the remaining 61 minutes, the German team scored a mere two more goals. But if their fans in the embassy were disappointed, they were gracious enough not to show it.
The most German moment of all, however, came in the final minute, when Brazil managed to claw a meaningless goal back. As the ball hit the back of the net, every German in the embassy applauded. They weren’t being sarcastic. They were completely sincere. It was as if to say, “Oh, vell done, Brazil. It is not easy to score against ze German defence.”
I know how it sounds, but the Germans genuinely weren’t being arrogant. They were all so friendly, pleasant and polite. We couldn’t have had more welcoming hosts. They just seemed to possess a tranquil selfassurance that is unimaginable to us in Britain, with our endless wild swings between chest-thumping delusional optimism and miserable self-loathing.
Imagine what would happen if England beat Brazil 7-1. No one would make it into work for a month. The Germans probably didn’t even have a hangover.
It’s not often I agree with Donald Trump. But this time, I think he’s had an idea that everyone in Britain can get behind.
At the G7 summit, Trump is reported to have told world leaders that, in his view, Crimea belongs to Russia – on the grounds that the people there all speak Russian.
Wonderful news. Because by that logic, the President must believe an awful lot of countries rightfully belong to Britain. For example, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Ireland, Jamaica.
Oh, and one more: the USA. So hand the keys over, Donald. After 242 years, it’s great to see the Americans admitting their mistake, and coming back under our control.
Make America Great Britain Again.
FOLLOW Michael Deacon on Twitter @Michaelpdeacon; READ MORE at telegraph.co.uk/opinion