If you’d been a dog they would’ve boiled you at birth

Is he going to go? Will he name a date? Will he jump? Will he be pushed? Knives might not yet be out, but hands are certainly resting on pommels….

… No. No. I can’t keep this up. Much as I hate the man, I’m having a hard time giving two shits whether or not he’s on his way out. If Craig Murray, and our civil service’s complicity in the human-boiling torture of suspects in Uzbekistan, had received the space that’s been devoted to rumours and gossip in Westminster Village, then we’d have had the lid off this whole fucking government by now. There’d be trials in the Hague and people’s careers justifiably in tatters. Instead we’re all sat watching this childish pantomime while everything we hold dear is being traduced, besmirched and violated behind the curtain.

The problem isn’t Blair. It’s the complacency and immorality of our political establishment, and the craven kowtowing of the national press to, if not the agenda of any one party, the agenda of the established order. Having a different bastard in the hot-seat is only one of the many, many changes this country needs.

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