More Bacon Butty Blues
I enjoyed this spoof diary by Hugo Rifkind in The Times - an election campaigning 'day in the life' of Labour leader, Ed Miliband.
What made me laugh was the thought that after making such a big play of embracing his Jewish background, Ed should come unstuck while eating a bacon sandwich.
Maybe it's a sign that Ed should be more on his guard, more 'observant' in future.
Monday
David Cameron is completely out of touch with the ordinary working people of Primrose Hill. That man doesn’t know which side his focaccia bread is buttered on.
“That’s brilliant, Ed,” says Ed Balls. “Do say it on television.”
Friends, I think I will. But later. First, I am having an election meeting with my shadow cabinet. And friends, I am proud. Proud that they all sneaked in the back door, so nobody can photograph us together.
Ed says he thinks it’s important that they all keep a very low profile this week, so as not to detract from my winning charisma. Harriet says she’s not planning on appearing in public at all, just like she hasn’t for the past four years. Chuka says he will, but only to slyly undermine me, so as to reinforce the message that I’m in charge. Nobody else says much at all.
Which avoids awkwardness, as I don’t really know who they are.
“Well thanks for coming,” I say. “Now, who wants seven pence for bringing the biscuits?”
“That’s not nearly enough,” says somebody.
“Oh really?” I say.
Tuesday
Slightly embarrassing. I was on Good Morning Britain this morning talking about the cost of living crisis, and I guessed my own family shop was about £70. And apparently that’s unconvincingly low.
“I’m really kicking myself!” I tell the producer afterwards. “I should have explained that it’s because I so often eat out!”
Quite quickly, the producer says I’m very welcome to come on and say that tomorrow.
“That’s really kind,” I tell her, and promise to check my diary.
Wednesday
Alas, I can’t. You see, friends, Ed and Harriet have dropped by again. And they say that the word on the doorstep is that I’m too weird, and need to be more like Nigel Farage.
“So step one,” says Ed, “is to look like you’re the only person in this party, and doing everything yourself.”
“You’ll notice we’ve been helping with that,” says Harriet.
Step two, says Ed, is to always wear a camel hair overcoat with a felt collar, and always be holding a drink. Beer or claret. In fact, beer and claret. Two drinks. And to smoke.
“Will an electric one do?” I ask, because I have asthma.
Ed says that’s fine. And so this morning I go canvassing dressed like a spiv from a Guy Ritchie film, with a drink in each hand and a white stick in my mouth with the end glowing electric green.
“See?” says Harriet. “Not weird at all.”
Thursday
The polls still suggest that Labour is losing touch with the working class.
And so this morning I’m meeting with my new American strategist Mr Axelrod for advice on how to eat a bacon sandwich.
“Although actually,” he says, “I’d recommend grits.”
“What are grits?” I say.
“Grits?” he says.
Chuka says the most important thing is to know how much a bacon sandwich costs.
“70p,” I say. “No, wait. £58?”
“Actually I have no idea either,” says Chuka.
Axelrod tells me to take a bite, and then sighs when the ketchup squirts out on to my tie.
“But that’s exactly what Nigel Farage does!” I protest.
“Indefinably, he just somehow does it better,” he says.
Friday
The results are a bit of a disaster. And friends, I am proud. Although I don’t know what of.
Lots of people are shouting outside my office, so I put a chair in front of the door and call my brother in New York.
“No way am I out of touch with ordinary Britain,” I tell him. “Just because I look a bit weird eating a bacon roll.”
David says it didn’t look weird to him.
“Thanks bro,” I say, and I sigh. “And now half our MPs are lining up to bitch about my leadership. Honestly! If I’m that strange, why did they vote for me in the first place?”
David says they didn’t.
“Oh,” I say. “Yeah.”
*according to Hugo Rifkind
David Cameron is completely out of touch with the ordinary working people of Primrose Hill. That man doesn’t know which side his focaccia bread is buttered on.
“That’s brilliant, Ed,” says Ed Balls. “Do say it on television.”
Friends, I think I will. But later. First, I am having an election meeting with my shadow cabinet. And friends, I am proud. Proud that they all sneaked in the back door, so nobody can photograph us together.
Ed says he thinks it’s important that they all keep a very low profile this week, so as not to detract from my winning charisma. Harriet says she’s not planning on appearing in public at all, just like she hasn’t for the past four years. Chuka says he will, but only to slyly undermine me, so as to reinforce the message that I’m in charge. Nobody else says much at all.
Which avoids awkwardness, as I don’t really know who they are.
“Well thanks for coming,” I say. “Now, who wants seven pence for bringing the biscuits?”
“That’s not nearly enough,” says somebody.
“Oh really?” I say.
Tuesday
Slightly embarrassing. I was on Good Morning Britain this morning talking about the cost of living crisis, and I guessed my own family shop was about £70. And apparently that’s unconvincingly low.
“I’m really kicking myself!” I tell the producer afterwards. “I should have explained that it’s because I so often eat out!”
Quite quickly, the producer says I’m very welcome to come on and say that tomorrow.
“That’s really kind,” I tell her, and promise to check my diary.
Wednesday
Alas, I can’t. You see, friends, Ed and Harriet have dropped by again. And they say that the word on the doorstep is that I’m too weird, and need to be more like Nigel Farage.
“So step one,” says Ed, “is to look like you’re the only person in this party, and doing everything yourself.”
“You’ll notice we’ve been helping with that,” says Harriet.
Step two, says Ed, is to always wear a camel hair overcoat with a felt collar, and always be holding a drink. Beer or claret. In fact, beer and claret. Two drinks. And to smoke.
“Will an electric one do?” I ask, because I have asthma.
Ed says that’s fine. And so this morning I go canvassing dressed like a spiv from a Guy Ritchie film, with a drink in each hand and a white stick in my mouth with the end glowing electric green.
“See?” says Harriet. “Not weird at all.”
Thursday
The polls still suggest that Labour is losing touch with the working class.
And so this morning I’m meeting with my new American strategist Mr Axelrod for advice on how to eat a bacon sandwich.
“Although actually,” he says, “I’d recommend grits.”
“What are grits?” I say.
“Grits?” he says.
Chuka says the most important thing is to know how much a bacon sandwich costs.
“70p,” I say. “No, wait. £58?”
“Actually I have no idea either,” says Chuka.
Axelrod tells me to take a bite, and then sighs when the ketchup squirts out on to my tie.
“But that’s exactly what Nigel Farage does!” I protest.
“Indefinably, he just somehow does it better,” he says.
Friday
The results are a bit of a disaster. And friends, I am proud. Although I don’t know what of.
Lots of people are shouting outside my office, so I put a chair in front of the door and call my brother in New York.
“No way am I out of touch with ordinary Britain,” I tell him. “Just because I look a bit weird eating a bacon roll.”
David says it didn’t look weird to him.
“Thanks bro,” I say, and I sigh. “And now half our MPs are lining up to bitch about my leadership. Honestly! If I’m that strange, why did they vote for me in the first place?”
David says they didn’t.
“Oh,” I say. “Yeah.”
*according to Hugo Rifkind
Bacon Butty Blues (23 May 2014)
If this report in The Independent is anything to go by, someone at Labour HQ needs to get a grip of the way that Ed Miliband is coming across in the media because this damaging narrative that Ed is 'bit of a weirdo' - is beginning to take root in the public mind.
A picture tells a thousand words and the rough and tumble of party politics means that Ed's strange encounter with a bacon sandwich is going to be feature agin and again as we approach the next general election in 2015.
Advisers had to intervene – just a few bites in – when it became clear the breakfast was not going to be an elegant affair
By ADAM WITHNALL - The Independent
After a difficult Monday morning of gaffes and on-air slip-ups, Ed Miliband would have been hoping for an easier ride when he went out and about to meet the working classes today.
Yet despite extensive stage-managing and with a seemingly simple task at hand, the Labour leader still struggled in his bid to look normal and back in touch with the general public.
Mr Miliband said he would be embarking on a whirlwind tour of 10 key locations across five regions of England today, in a last-minute push for votes ahead of tomorrow’s local and European elections.
The first challenge, however, came in the form of a bacon sandwich – that staple for any politician wanting to look like he fits in.
The assembled photographers quickly took an interest after it became apparent that the mound of oozing ketchup and grease could not be tackled elegantly.
And after no more than a few bites the leader had to give up, according to reports in the Evening Standard. Speaking to the newspaper later about yesterday’s disastrous media appearances, Mr Miliband admitted: “It comes with the territory.”
Not Just Any Atheist (13 April 2014)
| Please tick one box only - for obvious reasons |
The Labour leader is already on record as saying that he does not believe in God - but says he does still have ‘faith’, apparently, and as far as I know this was said without the benefit of prescription or any other drugs.
Now I would have no problem with Ed Miliband proclaiming his Jewish heritage as part of who he is and where he came from, bit all this faith business is a bot bonkers if you ask me, as if Ed's trying to have it both ways at the same time.
On a trip to Israell, Ed explained to reporters that his new found faith is ‘part of who I am’ and is compatible with being an atheist, before going on to claim that like many religious believers, he hopes to ‘change the world’.
The only fly in the ointment that I can see with this stance though is that other religious believers don't hold themselves out to be atheists, so I'm completely baffled by the following comment:
"I have a particular faith. I describe myself as a Jewish atheist. I’m Jewish by birth origin and it’s a part of who I am.
"I don’t believe in God, but I think faith is a really, really important thing to a lot of people. It provides nourishment for lots of people.
"In terms of faith for me, it’s a faith about how you change the world. And that is actually true for a lot of religious people as well."
Maybe Ed's just trying to ingratiate himself with as many people as he can in a desperate attempt to garner more votes - if so, he's certainly cornered the market when it comes to Jewish atheists.
You Gotta Have Faith (3 October 2012)
I listened to Ed Miliband's 'leader's speech' at the Labour party conference yesterday - the full bhuna I have to confess - not just the sound bites that made their way on to TV or into the newspaper headlines.
The whole affair left me completely unmoved - I also have to say - because the speech was full of platitudes and empty slogans - while saying nothing much at all about the tough times and choices facing the country.
What did interest me though was Ed's bizarre description of his commitment to politics as a 'faith' - because Ed, like myself, has always held himself out to be a non-religious person.
Now I couldn't really care two hoots whether Ed is an atheist, agnostic - or whether he believes in God for that matter - to my mind that's a personal matter and has nothing to do with his role as a politician.
But I detected a bit of fancy footwork here - a bit of careful repositioning or political 'spin' you might call it - so that Ed looks rather less frightening to the God brigade.
Which is presumably why Ed got married recently - after years of living perfectly happily with his partner - Justine Thornton - albeit in a previously unwedded state.
The fact that politicians do things to appear more 'normal' is not new - Tony Blair once famously told Gordon Brown he would never become Prime Minister unless he (Gordo) gave up his bachelor days and ways - and got himself married.
Shortly afterwards Gordon found himself a wife - of course.
Take another example - the one involving Ed Miliband going to his local comprehensive school instead of some fee paying school - for privileged toffs.
Which makes Ed 'one of us' in the Labour Tribe - instead of one of them.
Yet dig a little deeper in the Labour Party and what do you find?
Well you find that its deputy leader - Harriet Harman - went to an exclusive fee paying school as so did one of the new rising stars of the party - Labour's business spokesperson Chuka Umanna.
An even more obvious example is that of Labour's most successful leader ever - Tony Blair - who led the party to three successive general election victories.
Tony Blair was privately educated in Edinburgh of course - as was Labour's former Scottish leader, Iain Gray.
Yet no one in the Labour Party made a fuss at the time.
'Pot and kettle' is the phrase that springs to mind.
All this political spin and manipulation - is enough to try the patience of a saint.
The whole affair left me completely unmoved - I also have to say - because the speech was full of platitudes and empty slogans - while saying nothing much at all about the tough times and choices facing the country.
What did interest me though was Ed's bizarre description of his commitment to politics as a 'faith' - because Ed, like myself, has always held himself out to be a non-religious person.
Now I couldn't really care two hoots whether Ed is an atheist, agnostic - or whether he believes in God for that matter - to my mind that's a personal matter and has nothing to do with his role as a politician.
But I detected a bit of fancy footwork here - a bit of careful repositioning or political 'spin' you might call it - so that Ed looks rather less frightening to the God brigade.
Which is presumably why Ed got married recently - after years of living perfectly happily with his partner - Justine Thornton - albeit in a previously unwedded state.
The fact that politicians do things to appear more 'normal' is not new - Tony Blair once famously told Gordon Brown he would never become Prime Minister unless he (Gordo) gave up his bachelor days and ways - and got himself married.
Shortly afterwards Gordon found himself a wife - of course.
Take another example - the one involving Ed Miliband going to his local comprehensive school instead of some fee paying school - for privileged toffs.
Which makes Ed 'one of us' in the Labour Tribe - instead of one of them.
Yet dig a little deeper in the Labour Party and what do you find?
Well you find that its deputy leader - Harriet Harman - went to an exclusive fee paying school as so did one of the new rising stars of the party - Labour's business spokesperson Chuka Umanna.
An even more obvious example is that of Labour's most successful leader ever - Tony Blair - who led the party to three successive general election victories.
Tony Blair was privately educated in Edinburgh of course - as was Labour's former Scottish leader, Iain Gray.
Yet no one in the Labour Party made a fuss at the time.
'Pot and kettle' is the phrase that springs to mind.
All this political spin and manipulation - is enough to try the patience of a saint.
