Karma's a bitch

No prizes for guessing the subject of this entry from its title. The news that the Trumps have contracted Coronavirus is exactly as surprising as the fact that the first presidential 'debate' turned into farce, with one of the participants in particular keener on a chimps' tea party than actually engaging in debate. (Always a potential problem when one of the candidates is nobody's idea of a great public speaker and the other is barely capable of stringing a coherent sentence together. Wonder if that came up in the producers' planning meetings?)

Anyway, now the next debate is in doubt thanks to Trump contracting a virus that just a week ago he told people 'not to worry about' because it 'affects virtually nobody', only the 'elderly and those with heart conditions'. 208,000 fatalities in the States strongly suggests otherwise, but don't worry, because he also said they're 'rounding the turn' of the pandemic, and has criticised his opponent Biden for wearing a mask and not gathering large numbers of people together at campaign rallies.

Now I don't believe in karma, but it's the only word that adequately stands as a synecdoche for what I feel is going on right now. And I know I'm hardly alone in that feeling, if my limited view of social media is anything to go by. I try to be a decent person when I hear news like this about somebody for whom I feel genuine antipathy – see my entry on Thatcher's death for a similar conscience wrestle some time ago. But Trump makes it very, very, very difficult to wish him a recovery. No, strike that – he makes it impossible. Even when Boris Johnson was hospitalised with Covid, I didn't want the man to die. I hoped, instead, that he'd learn from it and come out with a renewed appreciation of the value of the NHS. Fat chance, of course, but that was nonetheless my feeling at the time.

Now I don't want Trump to die either, but the reasons are rather less noble. I don't want him becoming some kind of political martyr to the extremists, climate-change deniers, MAGA dickheads and ultra-conservative right that he represents. I don't want those of his followers who believe the virus is a Chinese-engineered biological weapon to have any further 'evidence' for their bizarre claims. And I don't want any kind of sympathy that may be generated for the man if he gets properly ill to be converted into votes. 

So despite my glee at the entirely appropriate condition in which he finds himself, and despite that fact that if he comes out of it without having been seriously ill, it will add fuel to his 'don't worry about it' line, I'm in the awkward position of having to hope he recovers quickly enough that he can't make political capital out of it. Better he comes out of it looking stupid (sorry; more stupid) than he comes out of it looking like some kind of tough-nut 'fighter'.

This year has been comfortably the worst that many millions of people can ever remember. In every corner of the globe, whether it's forest fires, the pandemic, refugee crises, the ongoing rise of the extreme right, increasingly extreme weather events, Brexit looming, human sacrifice or dogs and cats living together (one for the Ghostbusters fans there), it's just been a complete shit-show from the fucking start. It may yet, though, have one positive note to end on, or almost end on.

I'll tell you what, 2020. You give us the gift of a Biden victory on November 3rd – a clear victory that can't be dragged through the courts for six months while Trump takes to squatting in the Oval Office – and we'll let bygones be bygones, eh?

Cross no boxes

Unlike Britain, which went to the polls on Thursday, Spain's European and local elections were yesterday. This was my first chance to vote here - I'm ineligible in the General Elections - and we came back from O Grove, a couple of hours' drive away, to do so.

There are of course similarities with Britain - you see election posters all over the place, though not, I've noticed, displayed in people's house windows. Instead the council provides large wooden boards at strategic points around the village onto which all the parties post their campaign posters. What unspoken arrangement exists as to who gets to put theirs at the top, what stops them removing competitors' posters etc., is unclear to me, but they seem to be neatly arranged such that they appear alternately, as if all parties are trying to be polite. (Though I've been told that some naughty types do indeed sneakily remove other parties' posters in the dead of night. Tsk.) Since the local elections mean you're basically voting for somebody you know personally, most of them simply show a slightly awkward-looking local staring directly at the camera, and the party's name and colour.  On a local level, at least, I don't hear people talking about the PSOE, the PP or the BNG so much as 'Pablo', 'Andres' and 'Secundino'.

The local school is the polling station, just as is often the case back home. You go and identify yourself, you're checked against the list, you go into the booth to vote. One vote for European election, one vote for local mayor. There's no crossing of boxes, though - you pick up a slip of paper branded with the party of your choice, insert it into an envelope provided, and drop the sealed envelope into the relevant box. This means that a lot of the election bumph you receive in the mail during the build-up includes envelopes with slips of paper already in them, so you can just take that and drop it in the box if you so wish. Very thoughtful of them!

The count, unlike back home, takes place in the same rooms in which the votes do. Five classrooms were given over to the task, being grouped both regionally and by surnames - so Viana do Bolo, A to F for example. The doors are closed for the count but people gather in the hallways of the school and peer in through open, slatted windows. The envelopes are opened, the name of the party called out, and the score kept on the whiteboards in groups of five. So you can see a running total as the votes are read out. Regular 'shushing' is required to stop chattering spectators making too much noise for the count. The votes are also, of course, counted by observers and checked against each others' scores at the end to make sure they all agree.

A few envelopes contained no slip at all - the local equivalent of writing 'none of the above' on the slip, and one of them contained only a photograph of one of the candidates. Draw your own conclusions - it didn't count. A proportional representation of the votes left the council, as in so many other places, with no overall control. PP - think of them as the Conservatives - came out with four seats, PSOE - Labour equivalent - with three, and BNG - a sort of Galician Plaid Cymru - with four. Negotiations will now have to take place as to who becomes mayor and whether any two - realistically BNG and PSOE - can coalesce. It was extremely interesting to see it done somewhere else, despite a local copper and council member good-naturedly threatening to sling me out of the building because of Brexit. I voted to remain, I reminded them, earning me the right to remain to watch the rest of the 'show'.

Results across Spain, as in much of Europe, served mainly to illustrate increasing polarisation of European politics. Nowhere more though than in Britain. Seeing the results, I can't seriously believe that even committed Leavers find that boorish tosser Farage an appealing politician, but his party served to underline just how much anti-EU sentiment there is in Britain. (Or perhaps it's just an expression of 'Just get it done, for fuck's sake...) The rise of the pro-EU Lib Dems and Greens and Labour's incoherence on their stance, added to huge punishment of the Tories' own inabilities, made Britain's results as divided as anywhere that voted.

I've watched what's been going on in Britain with increasing apprehension, particularly given May's recent resignation. It's not that I think she was capable of doing a decent job of the Brexit negotiations - I defy anybody to navigate the conflicting desires of both sides of that debate with any success - so much as the fear of who might follow her. May at least isn't Boris Johnson, for example. She's been praised by all sides for remaining polite and calm, and I've always had some residual goodwill for her over her stance and work on Hillsborough. People have said she was dealt a bad hand and played it badly. I think she was dealt an impossible hand and played it no less well or badly than anybody else could.

What we may now get is some bug-eyed, foaming-at-the-mouth anti-European determined to pull us out of the EU under any circumstances. (Bloody foreigners! Keep the pound! Close the Chunnel! Ahh, India... If only we hadn't lost you...) The possibility that it may next be Boris to whom this most difficult negotiation is tasked, a man who already has a trail of gaffes, insults, casual racism and rule-breaking behind him, doesn't really bear thinking about. It was fun to watch him dangle from a rope slide waving flags in 2012 and all that, but hasn't his disastrous term as Foreign Secretary already demonstrated that giving him a real job is taking the joke much, much too far?

That the more moderate wing of the Tory party are already warning sternly against leaving with no deal or they may help 'bring down the government', and that such a thing is possible that people like Gove or Hunt almost look preferable to Johnson as next leader, shows just what sort of a shit-storm we're in the middle of.

It's all made last night's election here, which to some is simply about whether the road outside their house is going to finally be repaired or money can be found to employ another doctor locally*, for example, seem like much more of an exercise in real politics, frankly. Being there, seeing the count unfold, knowing the candidates and their seconds and thirds - it was actually fun. Who'd have thought?

*This is of course an over-simplification but it's that sort of stuff that motivates people here and can decide a person's vote.

Implosions

Even a quick look at the political landscape in Britain right now reveals the seismic changes that have already been brought about by last Thursday’s result. I'm a very, very long way from a political expert, so can only say it as I see it, but it all rather suggests that the front each party presents to the electorate has been tissue-paper thin all along. I suspect that would surprise nobody (and could fill an entry all of its own), but it’s nonetheless a bit worrying.

On the one hand, the Tories are going through a leadership election that was always going to happen if the vote went against Cameron. The declared runners at time of writing are few, with likely candidates like Boris Johnson* and Jeremy Hunt announcing they’re not running. but even so - you know it’s grim when you’re looking at the selection and thinking to yourself ‘I hope Theresa May wins’. And she’s been backed by ‘Corrible’ Hunt – I’m sure she’s delighted.

Obviously though, being instinctively a lefty, it’s Labour’s leadership issue which most concerns me. I confess to having felt mixed feelings about Corbyn specifically – it’s not easy to support a man the majority of whose parliamentary party is against him, simply because it makes things easier for the Tories at a time when their own divisions should be being exploited.

That said, ultimately those MPs are (supposedly) elected to represent their constituents, and many of the rank and file Labour Party members who voted for him in large numbers come from those constituencies. So overall, I think the PLP should shut up and get behind a man who has a clear mandate from the membership and would likely win again in the event of any formal leadership challenge. Indeed the Labour Party membership jumped specifically before his election, with many joining so they could vote for him. Those members haven't gone away, as the rising membership of Momentum demonstrates. The Parliamentary Labour Party should not be distancing itself from the very people who put them there, even if they disagree with many of them on the specific issue of the EU. Corbyn’s support of Remain may not have been convincing but he did support it, at least publicly. He did what was right when it mattered – the PLP should do the same.

The biggest concern for me in all of this is who’s likely to exploit any political vacuum caused by the splits on both sides. Usually the centre ground would benefit from such problems, but the Lib Dems are still reaping the whirlwind of their own voters’ ire after they coalesced with the Tories, so that’s not necessarily the case now. That leaves the worrying possibility that more extreme parties, of whatever persuasion, stand to gain from the chaos. Imagine a general election where the Tory vote is split or lowered because they’ve lost the support of Remain voters in London and elsewhere, the Labour party has split in two, dividing their votes with them, and nobody wants to vote Lib Dem. What you’ve possibly got then is a very low turnout and UKIP and others improving their share of the vote dramatically.

That doesn’t bear thinking about, but the referendum result has generated such turmoil in politics in Britain right now that it’s the kind of hypothetical scenario that we have to.

*Has it all got a bit real for Boris, such that he suddenly doesn’t want anything to do with it? He and Gove looked like rabbits in headlights in the direct aftermath of the Leave victory, and it’s since become clear that they’d done not an iota of planning between them for such a result.

Consequences

I've always been a proud Englishman, but that pride is not bound up with the usual motivations for it, or expressions of it, that typify such an animal. I've always, for example, absolutely detested the flag-waving, tub-thumping spectacle of the last night of the Proms. Instead it's come from the fact that I've always thought us an island of open minded, tolerant, modern-thinking, creative, culturally significant people.

That belief has, obviously, taken something of a dent these past few days. Immediately on hearing the referendum result, my reaction was pretty sanguine. Just accept it and get on with it, I thought. But what's been happening since then has served only to make me think that, frankly, we're a nation of idiots. Look at this piece in the Indy, for example. The morning after the vote, and only once the result had been announced, there was a surge in Google searches for what happens if we vote to leave. I'd thought, rather naively as it turns out, that this is the sort of thing you looked for before you cast your vote. Accepting that some of these may have been worried Remain voters fearing the worst, if you don't even know what it is you're voting for, should you really be in the damn polling station in the first place? I guess it's possibly because many Leave voters were busy fretting about being robbed by a conspiracy to alter the results by erasing the pencil marks beforehand. Perhaps they didn't have time to actually consider the other stuff.

Then there's the quantity of spoiled ballot papers - over 26,000. Of course the bulk of those are people making some form of personal protest, but over 9,000 of these were rejected for both boxes having been marked. What the fuck? How much more simple does it have to be to enable people to vote correctly?

The post-vote response of some people has been startling, too. A workmate told me that more than one of his friends had said they 'didn't think their vote would count'. Apart from wondering why they bothered to vote in the first place if they genuinely believed that, you again have to ask how they thought this process was going to work if some votes counted and some didn't.

There's no room for voter remorse, and no point arguing the result. No matter how huge the petition grows for another vote, it's pointless and doomed to failure because it's asking for retrospective legislation. There was one vote, and it's done.That's how democracy works - the people have spoken and now have to deal with the consequences. Consequences that we're seeing all too quickly. An apparently broken PM resigning, the only thing he could do in the circumstances. The Parliamentary Labour Party rebelling against its leader and, in the process, showing that it doesn't think the same way as the bulk of its voters - in the north at least - because Corbyn, who better reflects what those northern voters think, was too lukewarm in his support of Remain. The prospect of Boris Johnson or Michael Gove taking over at Number 10, in the process giving us an unelected leader that I rather thought was the type of thing the Leave campaign were against. The two of them may at least have managed to sound gracious in victory, but it's hard to ignore that they were doing so when a nice spot in Downing Street had just opened up.

We're also seeing the first noises being made in what could ultimately lead to the break-up of the supposedly United Kingdom (what a joke that name looks like now, given the enormous division in voting). The Scots were already pissed off about the failure to deliver on promises made after their own devolution referendum. They're positively livid now. And what's going to happen on the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic? Surely they're not going to want to return to the days of patrolled borders, checks to get across etc, which would be horribly reminiscent of the Troubles they've worked so hard to leave behind.

Meanwhile, Leave are busily distancing themselves from much of the stuff they'd campaigned on. The £350million claim, for example, which I described as already discredited in my previous entry, has now been called a 'mistake' by none other than Farage himself. The version of Britain for which Leave voters thought they were voting never existed, and never could. I wonder if they're beginning to realise that for themselves now.

I confess that, living in Lambeth, with its second highest pro-Remain vote in the country behind Gibraltar, I'd been optimistic that it would go the way I wanted. I hadn't seen a single Leave sticker, window poster etc, in my area. It was difficult, as that's all I was seeing, to see it going against Remain. I thought people would vote with a 'better the devil you know' nervousness about what would happen if we left. I was very badly wrong.

So - and I realise this is sour grapes, since that bitter taste in my mouth must be coming from somewhere - over 17 million people, plus the 28% who couldn't be titted to vote on the most important matter in our lifetimes - have forfeited their right to complain about what happens in future as a result of this vote. They've made the bed, it's just a pity that the young, the Scots, the Northern Irish, Gibraltarians and Londoners, the majority of whom all voted to Remain, will all have to lie in it with them.

And that pride in being English I was talking about? Well, during the General Election people turned out in their droves in Farage's constituency, some of them openly saying they were voting tactically specifically to keep him out. That's the sort of thing I was talking about making me proud. It's a pretty good thing they did, because his lack of class in victory was quite incredible. Then there's this sort of thing. I don't feel a great deal of pride at the moment. I feel ashamed, to be honest.

I can even get biscuits into an entry about the referendum...

It's been, again, a long time since I made an entry here, but the third-ever national referendum in Britain, and one held on such a fundamental matter, seems suitably weighty a subject on which to return.

At time of writing, we're perhaps eight hours, and certainly less then 12, from knowing the final result of the vote that seems, thanks to the ludicrously negative and bitter campaigning, to have taken forever to arrive. I had to queue to cast my vote this morning, which suggests a high turnout, so at least all the effort both sides have put in may have been worth it from the point of view of voter engagement.

It does seem to have been something that people genuinely care about. Mooching around a farmers' market in Oval recently - very good chorizo Scotch eggs to be had there - there was a civilised debate going on between two fairly eloquent reps, one from each side. This was being amplified though speakers so the whole market could hear, and indeed there was a decent smattering of people sitting listening. This debate, though perhaps atypical of the campaign as a whole in that the speakers were at least civil and didn't interrupt each other, instead alternating at the mic, still threw up some ridiculous claims from each side that were all too typical of what we've been hearing over the past few months.

The Leave campaigner, for example, trotted out the standard bollocks about the £350m fee we pay every week to the EU, a number long since discredited since it makes no account of either the rebates we receive or the mitigating benefits we're paying for - see this rather marvellous piece from John Oliver for a much better response that this layman can come up with. In turn, the Remain campaigner retorted that for every £1 we spend on the EU, we get £10 back. She offered absolutely nothing by way of evidence for this number, merely giving her opponent the rope with which to hang her. This was somebody on the same side of the debate, broadly speaking, as me, but who'd still managed to make me snort with derision at what she'd said.

Overall, the two rather nicely summed up the biggest problem with what amount to the sticks with which each side has beaten the electorate lately - there's been nothing genuinely convincing from either side. As far as I can tell, the Remain campaign has largely been about all the crap that could fall on our heads if we pull out. While I can, of course, see that, couldn't they have focused the main thrust of their argument a bit more on the positive, rather than treating them as some kind of side show? The Leavers' argument, however, can pretty much be summed up as 'Hurrumph. Bloody foreigners.' Not even close to good enough, lads.

It's only fair to point out that, as somebody whose partner is an EU citizen who came here a long time ago, and who hopes to move permanently to Spain with that partner, my own position would be rather simple even without all the 'facts' that have been spat at us during the course of the campaign. My partner has worked without a break ever since she got here, and has certainly paid more tax than I have during that period, offering considerably more to our society with her career in teaching and the charity sector than I ever have with mine in advertising. We'd like to live in Spain but come and go to Britain and elsewhere as we please. We'd also like to do this without having to get married, or either of us taking the other's nationality. So to me this is a no-brainer before either side even put their case to me. 

I like to think, though, that I'd want something a bit more substantive than 'if the immigrants would only sod off everything would be OK' to make up my mind, even if I weren't living with one. But in the event that there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to go on, I still think there'd be a way to decide. Let's imagine you had, for whatever reason, not the slightest knowledge of what each side was campaigning for. Not an inkling. You've been living as a hermit for ten years so for all you know, it could be about whether chocolate digestives should be banned from having a layer of caramel added between the choccy and the biscuit base - you just have no idea what's going on.

But you've come back from your little hole in the desert ground, have realised from the hubbub that this is important, and need something to key on before you cast your vote. All you'd need to do is take a look at some of the standard bearers for the respective campaigns. They've given us nothing more useful to go on, so that's as good a criterion as any. So, let's see...

On the Remain side you've got the leaders of the main political parties, a lot of high-profile business leaders and quite a few celebrities. Not exactly the champions you'd send in to joust for your honour, but hold on - have a look at this lot on the other side. Yes, there are business leaders on this side too. But... Gove. Boris Johnson. Nigel fucking Farage. 

Quickly! Give me that pencil. Decision made.

It's not just footballers who should learn an Olympic lesson

We've all seen the pictures of the Chancellor being booed heartily by the crowd in the Olympic Stadium when he took part in a medal ceremony. The reaction of most people seemed to be amusement and it is, in fairness, always slightly funny to see a politician getting the bird when they stick their head above the parapet.

But the Tories should be careful to heed what was a pretty emphatic warning. The sound did not come across as a few malcontents - it seemed as though the entire stadium, 82,000 people, were joining in lustily. That is a significant and representative sample of the electorate they have to face at the next general election, letting a deeply unpopular Chancellor know what they think of him. Not that I believe it was an entirely party political thing - witness the reception Cameron and Boris Johnson, Tories both, received at the parade of Olympians outside Buckingham Palace on Monday 10th.

Rather, this was, I believe, a firm statement of the distaste people feel for a man who's making savage cuts to budgets across the public sector, across services that affect everybody, and ignoring the howls of protest that he's doing so too quickly and too deeply. The reshuffle (or rearrangement of the Titanic's deck chairs) they just undertook left Osborne bizarrely unaffected. He seems absolutely bomb-proof, of all the possible candidates Cameron could have moved. I don't know if this represents blind faith in their dogmatic approach to spending policy, blind faith in Osborne himself or simple, stubborn stupidity.

Whichever it is, the Tories may find out to their cost just how heartfelt those boos were, how indicative of the strength of feeling against the Chancellor, if they do not heed them.

The great Olympic countdown

It's almost upon us. The actual sport starts tomorrow, even before the opening ceremony, which my mole inside the stadium for last night's rehearsal declared 'awesome'. Boris Johnson's voice is umming and ahhhing from great speakers at London railway stations, burbling imprecations to walk or cycle. Various unions have completed their strike ballots. We're ready.

Ready too, are the missile installations apparently sitting on buildings near the Olympic park. I think we all thought that they were there to deter, or even bring down, terrorist attacks. But another thought occurs. Such has been the furore over the policing of the branding of these Games that the Mayor himself has waded in to criticise the heavy-handedness of what he's called the 'brand army', and Locog has felt it necessary to issue a PR 'myth-busting' fact sheet in response to some of the more outrageous stories. So we can all rest easy – you "probably will" be allowed to enter the Olympic Park with a Pepsi logo on your shirt, says Lord Coe.

'Ambush' marketing will not, however be tolerated. Is this what the missiles are really for? "Sir, there's a plane approaching the stadium with a 'Lipsmacking thirstquenching acetasting motivating goodbuzzing cooltalking highwalking fastliving evergiving coolfizzing Pepsi-Cola' banner trailing behind it."

"Open fire!"

Notwithstanding some of the inevitable British negativism around the Games, some of which I understand given the pointlessly excessive brand protection – don't even get me started on the chips monopoly – I am, in reality, really looking forward to them kicking off. I remain convinced, despite loud statements of disbelief from naysayers who believe the opposite is true, that the independent assessment of the financial impact on our economy being a positive one is correct.

And on a more visceral, seeing-the-everyday-reality-of-the-Games level, I'm seeing volunteers daily on my commute. The buildings in the Olympic Park all look great. The sun's out, though that will not last of course. Brad Wiggins' magnificent victory in the Tour de France has further whetted British appetites for sporting success. The beach volleyballers have said that, even if it rains (IF it rains! Hah!), they'll eschew the permitted long trouser and remain in bikinis. Yay!* What more signs do you need that it's going to be great?



*Apparently blokes also play beach volleyball - but who knew that was an Olympic sport?

And the political wheel turns

So Boris Johnson seems to have won a second term on the basis that he's slightly less unpopular than Ken Livingstone. It was a close run thing with the big two miles clear of everybody else. From the point of view of the mayoral elections, probably more interesting was the fact that in the rest of the country, where major cities were voting on the principal of actually having an elected mayor, all but one rejected the idea. You have to wonder if the experience of Londoners, and the unedifying sight of the major players yelling at each other, had anything to do with how those votes went.

On local councils, the usual mid-governmental term took effect, with whoever's in opposition kicking the governing party's arse, as is often the case. (Or arses in this case, as it's the Lib Dems, beginning to reap what they sowed, whose rear end has been most comprehensively reddened this time round.) It's difficult to know if this represents a genuine rejection of the policy of cuts that are biting so deeply or is merely the standard response to an unpopular government. As all governments seem to be unpopular mid-term, we'll probably have to wait for a general election to see this play itself out to a conclusion. Or at least, the conclusion of a single rotation of this political wheel.

In the meantime, the best we London residents can hope for is that Boris continues to not do too much damage. Livingstone suggested that, in winning the mayoral election, Johnson has also settled the next Tory leadership battle. But with his four-year term certain to run beyond the next general election, I'm not sure how that's possible. Livingstone, just as he did with the tone of his campaign, got that one wrong I think.

Mayoral election is Hobson's choice

This Thursday sees elections in London for both the Mayoralty and the London Assembly (not that most people have the faintest idea who sits on that body, nor its powers). It does, as is often the way in British politics, appear to be a fight between red and blue, with the other candidates some distance back.

I freely admit that, last time round, I voted for Livingstone as my way of hoping Boris J wouldn't get in. It left a slightly sour taste in my mouth, but I viewed him as the lesser of two evils. It's all very well being a likeable buffoon, but it should be remembered that the position of Mayor of London carries considerable power and influence and should perhaps not therefore be given to such an individual. I suspect that his election was, in part, a reflection of how unpopular Livingstone was (and is).

The fact is, though, that this time round, given the lengths Ken seems to have gone to to make himself appear even more the bumptious git, it feels impossible to vote for him. He's moved his opponent to screaming apoplexy with supposed 'lies' about his financial affairs and generally behaved in the worst traditions of smear politicians everywhere. I simply don't know whether I'll have it in me to vote for him when I come to stand in the booth on May 3rd.

What, then of the others? Boris? No chance – like I said, the fact that his old-school affable idiocy makes for good telly does not make him a viable option as a candidate. The best that can be said about his period in office is that he doesn't appear to have done much long-term damage. Hardly a ringing endorsement.

That leaves Paddick. For personal reason, I can't and won't vote Lib Dem. Those of you who know me will probably know why. So he's out.

Green? No - she has absolutely no chance of winning, and no clear statement on policies for anything. Their candidate's only election strategy seems to be to utter the word 'sustainable' as many times as possible, without actually having to outline any actions that may be taken, or ruling out any that may not.

BNP? Christ no. They should be congratulated for managing to persuade an immigrant to stand for them, but you've got to wonder whether the bloke's actually got a grasp of their own policies. The BNP may have a chance of an Assembly member with the voting patterns of certain deprived parts of London, but if they ever have a London Mayor, I'm off to Spain.

UKIP? More dangerous than the BNP in their way, because they're not known as racists and have, unlike Griffin's lot, the ability to speak faintly articulately. The evil which presents a public face of harmlessness is the most worrisome of all. I'd sooner vote Raving Loony. (Where is the Raving Loony candidate, by the way? I sincerely hope they're not disappearing from our election screens - they're the only ones who truly show up politics for what it is).

Then there's the half-dozen independents, of whom Siobhan Benita seems to have garnered the most attention. They really do have no chance, and I worry about any independent's lack of political experience. Have they the connections to grease the wheels? It's also difficult to garner any real appreciation of their policies when they're so excluded from the mainstream media.

Where, then, does that leave me? This is probably the first time in my adult life than I'll enter a voting booth with a genuine desire to write 'none of the above' on the damn slip. I'm not going to abstain from voting, I've always railed against doing such a thing, but part of me thinks that 'no winner', given the likely terrible turn-out, should be declared. If no candidate can be considered to have a mandate from the voters, perhaps the role should be mothballed and the powers handed to the Assembly until a candidate people actually feel able to vote for emerges.