Hugo Rifkind's spoof 'My Week' column in The Times is the funniest thing you'll read anywhere about Labour and the fall out from the local council elections.
My Week: Jeremy Corbyn*
By Hugo Rifkind - The Times
John told me the results of the local elections (we’d almost forgotten about them) were quite mixed, probably because of the biased media - ANDY RAIN/EPA
“Everything will change,” says John McDonnell, “when the electorate gets to see the real you.”
All the top team are here. I’m in my kitchen with my back to them all, wearing my stained grey tracksuit and finishing a batch of jam to post off to my friends in Hamas.
“Hmmm?” I say, irritably.
Seumas Milne says John is right, because the media portrayal of me is completely biased. Smear after smear. Like all that stuff about Labour turning a blind eye to antisemitism. What other party leader has ever been accused of something like that?
“Hitler?” suggests Ken Livingstone, but everybody ignores him.
“Frankly,” says John, “if you believed the press, you’d think that Jeremy was a petulant old man who simply doesn’t have the work ethic to be prime minister. Which is ridiculous.”
“Totally ridiculous!” shouts Seumas. “The real fight starts now!”
“No it doesn’t,” I snap, turning around. “It starts tomorrow, because I worked on Sunday and I’m having a day in lieu. Pass me the strainer.”
The real fight starts now. With Diane Abbott doing an interview on LBC about our police policy. Which doesn’t go very well.
“I’m surprised,” I say, when she comes to debrief. “Because you’re normally our star performer.”
“Listen, Jewemy,” she says now, very, slowly. “I’ve done 10,000 interviews this morning and . . .”
“Are you sure?” I say.
Diane says it might be 25,000 interviews. Or 250,000 interviews. Or, perhaps, only about seven interviews. But the important point is that our police policy is out there now, and everybody knows what it is.
“Brilliant!” I say. “So what is it?”
Diane sighs, and closes her eyes.
“Diane?” I say.
But she doesn’t open them again, and eventually I have to go out.
I’m discussing election strategy with Tom Watson and John McDonnell, even though I worked yesterday, when Sir Keir Starmer drops by. He says the PM has attacked the European Commission, and we need to talk about it.
“But who are you?” I say.
“The shadow Brexit secretary,” says Keir, looking surprised.
“Ours?” I ask.
“Looks like a Tory to me,” says John, menacingly.
“I swear,” says Keir. Then he says that the PM has accused Jean-Claude Juncker of trying to stop people from electing her as prime minister. Which suggests he wants them to make me prime minister, instead.
“Is he insane?” says Tom.
“He does drink a lot,” says Keir.
“Whose side are you on?” I say.
“It does sound odd,” admits John, “when you say it out loud.”
It’s the day of the local elections. We’d all completely forgotten about them.
“We won’t lose more than 30 council seats,” says Diane Abbott. “Or maybe 300. Or, at a push, 300,000.”
“Are there that many?” I ask, but Diane has closed her eyes again, so that’s probably that.
Seumas Milne says these elections are only a test. The real fight starts once people have seen me on the doorstep.
“Especially now my wisteria is out,” I say, proudly, “and I’ve finally trimmed that rose bush.”
“Not your own doorstep,” says Seumas.
“Oh,” I say.
I’m at home making jam again. John McDonnell says our results are quite mixed, probably because of the biased media. Although we can deal with that once we’re in power. Like they did in Venezuela.
“We’re not getting into power,” snaps Tom Watson. “We’ve lost Glasgow. And half of Wales. And most of everywhere else. It’s a bloodbath. Wake up.”
John says one promising thing is that a few people have gone out and voted Labour, anyway, even though the biased media had told them that they weren’t going to.
“Does that make sense?” says Tom.
“Listen,” says Diane Abbott, and then closes her eyes and doesn’t say anything else.
“Remember,” I say, “the people who voted against us simply aren’t representative of the electorate. Whereas our supporters are.”
“But there . . . aren’t as many of them,” says Tom, hopelessly.
“That’s not important,” chuckles John.
“Yes it is!” shouts Tom.
“The real fight,” I say, sucking happily on my wooden spoon, “starts now.”
*according to Hugo Rifkind
Real Fight Starts Here (10/02/17)
The internet has been having a great old time with Jeremy Corbyn's claim that 'the real fight starts here' over Brexit after failing to lay a glove on the Government and its Leave supporters for the past six months.
I think my favourite is this one of Captain Quint from the movie 'Jaws' as he leaves the giant shark in absolutely no doubt about who's calling the shots.
King of Comedy (09/02/17)
Jeremy Corbyn has a promising career ahead in stand-up comedy ahead once he stands down from his current job of destroying the Labour Party.
The Labour leader famously called for Article 50 to be invoked 'immediately' on 24 June 2016 the day after the great EU referendum and yesterday the House of Commons finally fired the Brexit starting pistol.
Under orders from Jeremy most Labour MP's rooted through the voting lobby with their Conservative colleagues before Corbyn issued the following defiant statement:
"Real fight starts now. Over the next two years Labour will use every opportunity to ensure Brexit protects jobs, living standards & the economy."
Now Jezza's brave words come more than six months after his call for Article 50 to be invoked 'immediately' during which time he has failed to lay a glove on the Tories or their leader Theresa May.
No one believes this for a minute, of course, and a stream of funny memes have appeared on the internet mocking Corbyn's vainglorious claim that he will 'fight to the death'.
Now that is funny - and some wag on Twitter illustrated the point with a video of a cat and a lizard in bathtub.