In village pubs, there is a need to be the one who knows. It's not a real need, but it's always been there. You know, when someone says, in a hushed whisper, just loud enough for both bars to hear above the juke box "have you heard about ..." or "you know [insert name here] ..." or "guess what?"
I guess this is to do with press releases. It must be. Then the Mouthpiece comes out with it like they've discovered it under a stone left by Moses, and says what he's going to be saying, about whom.
So there's not much point, then, listening to him say it. Is there?
That's not my point though.
Example: [insert one of the three strongest parties' leader's name here] will say today that [insert another party here] have failed in delivering [insert a service such as health, education, snow] because of [insert factor here such as incompetence, forthcoming election]
You can make up your own. If you do ten or so one of them will be right for next week and you can then claim to be a top investigative journalist.
It's still not my point though.
My point is that I don't give a stuff what one of the three strongest parties' leader's got to say about one of the other parties' failure, or success for that matter. I might be the slightest bit interested to see what he has to say about what his own party intends to do, but only if that's qualified by when, or by why it might or might not happen. But I'm probably not, because it's probably all bollocks to get him elected to the top job, and as soon as he gets in and drinks the champagne it's all back to the same old shit.
The BBC doesn't say anything about any of the other parties, except when someone's shagging someone else, or when one of them calls someone something blatantly racist, or accuses someone (or indeed indulges in the act of) performing buggery on a farmyard animal in the middle of Westminster Bridge in the rush hour, or some such newsworthy event.
So I have some advice. This advice is directed at some of the parties whose current chance of even being heard, let alone catching a vote, is roughly equal to that of me winning the rollover jackpot on Saturday's lottery draw.
Do something daft. It worked for Nick Griffin. I have something in common with Nick (it isn't an eye deficiency, a liking for brown shirts or anything to do with racism, so you can guess if you like). I have another thing in common with him too - if you put me on the telly, or radio, in front of a hostile mob, I will come over like a complete twat. It's a big shame. I don't agree with very much of what he says, but then I do agree with a bit. The Euro bit, certainly.
But Nick at least got the publicity.
The big boys have a machine that gets them this publicity. Why else would Major and Currie have got together? Why else would they put Blunkett in charge of anything? All publicity is good publicity.
Attention, you minority parties, Libertarians, NOTA - there are loads of you. Do something. There's no point twittering away on t'internet, like I do. People won't read you, apart from those looking for you. The voters are watching Strictly. Britain's got Talent. You need to get in the public eye. Shag a goat. Get drunk and urinate on a Beefeater. Lunge wildly at the Pope [thanks to Bill Bailey for that one]. But do something, get noticed. Get your tits out. Anything.
Perhaps the reader of this blog (there is only one) would like to suggest some things?
I know it would work. I behave like an arse most days, and even if it doesn't get me popular, at least people know who I am.
Go on. You know you want to. There isn't much time.
Right. I'm off to check the lottery results. I'll let you know.
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