And another thing…

REPRESENTATIVE democracy is dead, they say – why vote for MPs when we have the technology to make instant decisions by phone and internet? If we can vote for Jedward in The X-Factor, then surely we can legislate as well from the comfort of our own homes? If, while eating Chinese food in front of the TV of a Saturday evening, we are capable of judging objectively whether Danyl’s performance this week wasn’t quite as strong as last week’s, well, surely that’s no different from being able to decide whether Schedule 2 to the Consolidate Planning (Miscellaneous Provisions) Bill should be retained or deleted?

Whenever I hear such ludicrous arguments I’m reminded of the excellent 1970 British satire, The Rise and Rise of Michael Rimmer, in which a careerist and scruples-free businessman eventually becomes President of the UK by demonstrating to the British public just how unworkable and unappetising direct democracy can be.

Have a look.

And you can buy your own copy of the DVD here.

DESPITE a very polite invitation, I am unable to meet with Old Holborn and Tory Bear today in the Westminster Arms where, they say, I was to have been presented with a copy of Orwell’s Animal Farm.

The gesture was planned after I posted an article suggesting that Orwell’s classic tale of agricultural shenanigans and glue factories was a charming children’s fable, just ripe for Disneyfication.

But today, being a celebration of a major victory against terrorism, is full of tradition. And one of the best loved, and more recent, traditions is Old Holborn (“I’m not mad – I’m furious!”) dressing up as that bloke out of V  For Vendetta and trying to march into the House of Commons, only to be asked by a police officer to remove his mask and go through the x-ray machine like everyone else, and then writing a blog post about how we’ve become a police state under Labour.

Which all just goes to show how lucky we are to live in a  country where people still have the right to demonstrate against not having the right to demonstrate about not having the right to protest.

Anyway, I’ve already got a copy.

WHATEVER your views on last night’s vote to allow MPs not to publish their home addresses on the ballot paper, I think this comment pretty much wins the argument. For me.

I want to know where my MP lives.

If he doesn’t like it, don’t become an MP

Simple as that.

Although I must admit, if I knew where you lived Tom, it wouldn’t be just the local cat shitting in your flowerbeds

Comfortable with the people you’ve got on your side, Iain?

Thank you and goodnight.