Things can only get better

An imperfect election has delivered a "perfect" outcome for the disenfranchised and a perfect storm for the politicos. The political classes are in disarray, Brown has been jettisoned by his party; there is a bidding war for the, rather smelly, hand of Nick Clegg; and the political journalists are wetting themselves to get the latest twist in this most unusual event. And the money markets don't give a fig.

But before I get too excited let's step back. Where is the electorate in all this? If anything we're even more marginalised than before. It's not Parliament or many of our elected representatives wheeling and dealing. It's the good old boys of the political classes. Mandy, Hague and Alistair Campbell - when the **** did he get elected.

And the SNP. As Saint Diana Abbot  said, the last time we had a minority messing with our Government we got the Humber bridge - from nowhere to where? So if we have a retro Lib/Lab pact with Alex Salmon holding up whoever Labour elects  arse blame it on yourselves.

Didn't you know we have a first past the post system - it doesn't do alliances, coalitions or "in the national interest" groupings.

So sit back, accept the blame and enjoy our masters and betters (and the hyenas that grin out of our TVs and pictorials) making absolute fools of themselves.

Shakespeare got it right in Corialanus.

"Most sweet voices!—

Better it is to die, better to starve,
Than crave the hire which first we do deserve.
Why in this wolvish toge should I stand here,
To beg of Hob and Dick that do appear,
Their needless vouches? custom calls me to't:—
What custom wills, in all things should we do't,
The dust on antique time would lie unswept,
And mountainous error be too highly heap'd
For truth to o'erpeer. Rather than fool it so,
Let the high office and the honour go
To one that would do thus.—I am half through;
The one part suffer'd, the other will I do.
Here come more voices.

[Re-enter other three citizens.]

Your voices: for your voices I have fought;
Watch'd for your voices; for your voices bear
Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six
I have seen and heard of; for your voices have
Done many things, some less, some more: your voices:
Indeed, I would be consul."

And when he is put to it...

"Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee!—
What should the people do with these bald tribunes?
On whom depending, their obedience fails
To the greater bench: in a rebellion,
When what's not meet, but what must be, was law,
Then were they chosen; in a better hour
Let what is meet be said it must be meet,
And throw their power i' the dust.
Mangles true judgment, and bereaves the state
Of that integrity which should become't;
Not having the power to do the good it would,
For the ill which doth control't."

'Not 'arf!'