I doubt Gordon thought he was out of the woods yet; but that ominous crashing sound in the undergrowth can mean only one thing - Charlie the Safety Elephant bearing down on our monocular PM, intent on squashing him like a bug. Elephants never forget, Gordon, and this one is no exception.
How bad do things have to be when Charles sodding Clarke is positioning himself as the conscience of the Labour Party? And what a delicious lack of self-awareness it must take for Safety - Safety! - to call for the Prime Minister to shape up or ship out - this, from a man who clung grimly onto the Home Office long after his work permit had expired. Still, it is nice of him to confirm that there was nothing so distasteful as a Blairite "ideology"; just a bunch of self-important spivs on the make, connected by their love of office rather than any coherent idea of what to do with it.
Charles Clarke was, and is, a rancorous thug whose tenure in office was about as distinguished as Steve McLaren's, and infinitely more destructive. There are enough anecdotes about this jug-eared cunt to keep us here all weekend, but for our purposes mockery will do as well as anything else.
Indeed. In fact, your humble Devil has just received a 'phone call, from a very drunken poor little Greek boy and a somewhat sozzled Trixy, urging me to resurrect one of my posts from "the glory days" of The Devil's Kitchen—those days when I did little more than insult our masters and conjure disgusting sexually-based scenarios involving various repulsive members of the state. So, for your delectation, here are some highlights of my sordid writing on the subject of Charlie Clarke...
Charles Clarke, The Safety Elephant: die, die, just fucking die, you fat, rancid shit.
I bet his crotch smells appalling after a long day at the office; it's his wife I feel sorry for, gagging as she nestles her face against his pubes and takes his half-turgid penis down her throat. Come to think of it though, let's face it, it's really her fault for marrying him in the first place.
Regular—or even occasional—readers of The Kitchen will know that I think that Charles Clarke is a fucking cunt, and I have suggested a number of measures to curb his excesses, most of them involving his painful expiration: phrases such as "breathtaking arrogance", "deeply insecure", "fucking useless", "deeply unpleasant" coupled with epithets that have included "a sly cunt", "a total and utter cunt", "a cunt with teeth", "overweight bastard", "a shit-eating slug", "liar", "a shit so far in front of the first water that he practically counts as some new lifeform", "a fucking fat wanker who should go and put himself out of our misery", "an overweight, stubborn, thin-skinned, deeply insecure bully" and "the world's most eloquent argument against the existance of an intelligent designer" might possibly have conveyed the impression that I didn't rate the fat fuck too highly (although I couldn't string him up high enough).
It seems that Timmy has also concluded that Charles Clarke is, indeed, a total and utter cunt; dogshit on one's shoes is unpleasant, but Charles Clarke is tramping it into the carpet.
Well, Charlie has decided to impart some more of his non-existent wisdom in The New Statesman, a Labourite rag not work the bandwidth it uses.
In a New Statesman exclusive Charles Clarke takes on critics who abuse the word Blairite and warns Labour is destined for disaster if it continues on its current course and adds "we will not permit that to happen"
[Charles Clarke: a fat sloppy turd in a suit, and a jug-eared cunt who desperately needs to be put out of our misery. This man is a fat, fuckwitted arsehole whose hastening from this world would be an act of mercy. No court in the land would convict...—DK]
As various commentators consider Labour's prospects, the term "Blairite" is being deployed to characterise the policies and personalities of some who question the party's current direction and urge Labour to face the future. Like "That cherite", the word is not used kindly. "Blairite" (even "über-Blairite") is a lazy and inaccurate shorthand. It is intended not to illuminate but to diminish, marginalise and insult.
Well, it works for me, you unpleasant little shit. You were part of the Blair government, and you and your equally odious cronies are an insult to humanity.
We should recognise that Tony Blair was an outstanding Labour prime minister who has now departed the British political scene and has no future part to play.
Except that that's bollocks, isn't it? Tony Blair was certainly a typical Labour Prime Minister—corrupt, deceitful, vain, cowardly, mendacious, venal and an all round shit (a typical politician, in fact)—but he does still have a part to play in the future of this country. How could he not?
For starters, we are still expending money, resources and lives in two theatres of war that he opened up based on lies; we are locked into insane PFI deals that we will be paying for for the next thirty years (and the rest).
Oh yes, Charlie, you might like to pretend that your master has nothing to do with the future of this country—and, believe me, we would almost all of us wish it to be the case—but that simply isn't true. And, as one of the conspirators, you should wear the shame around your neck like a millstone (although in your case, Charlie, you appear to be carrying it around your gut).
In the end, social change did not come quickly or consistently enough and, despite very major successes, reform in some areas was patchy.
What "successes"? I mean, you can say that there were some fairly major reforms, but "successes"? What were they, Charlie, you fat, talentless cunt? Name me one successful outcome of NuLabour policy.
Every single change enacted has had unintended consequences—the repercussions of which are still being felt—which outweigh any benefit gained.
This past week, Alistair Darling rightly said that the "coming 12 months will be the most difficult 12 months the Labour Party has had in a generation".
Here's hoping! And why? Because your changes have fucked up the nation's finances, caught the poor in a benefit trap and generally made things an awful lot worse. So why don't you go and hang yourself, Charlie?
Blairism as a concept offers little by way of rescue. It is certainly not a guide to action. Equally, however, it is inaccurate and misleading to dismiss as some kind of Blairite rump those who fear that Labour's current course will lead to utter destruction at the next general election.
Again, here's hoping. And, seriously, hang yourself. Look, if it will make you feel better, I promise to piss on your grave...
There is no coherent Blairite ideology. Many of us who were proud to be members of Tony Blair's government had differing approaches even then, and certainly propose differing prescriptions now.
Although your shared one quality: the ability to utterly fuck up every single thing you touched. Especially you, you fucking ball of blubber.
Similarly, there is no Blairite plot, despite rumours and persistent newspaper reports. There is, however, a deep and widely shared concern - which does not derive from ideology - that Labour is destined to disaster if we go on as we are...
Yep! Bye bye to you and your mates, you jug-eared butterball. The day cannot come soon enough.
... combined with a determination that we will not permit that to happen.
Oh really? Well, good luck with that one, Safety.
Still, much good may it do us. One of the commenters on the article says...
"Labour is destined for disaster if it continues on its current course and adds "we will not permit that to happen"
Which sums up the attitudes of the Government .
Arrogant and out of touch with the real world.
Voters vote Governments in or out.
Charles Clarke can say all he likes. he is Not a member of this Government now: but he was. He could have changed things but did not.
We voters decide.. not politicians.
And Labour - present course or not - is destined to receive from most of us what it had a taste of in Glasgow and Crewe and Nantwich: our opinion on them.
To suggest "we will not permit it" suggests he is living on another planet.
The idea that the voters decide, in any meaningful way, what government we have is a risible idea.
The Usual Suspects featured the tagline, "the greatest trick that the Devil ever pulled was convincing people that he didn't exist"; well, let me adapt that: "the greatest trick the politicians ever pulled was to convince the people that they were living in a democracy."
Look at the choices that we have for government: all three of the big parties differ so little that it really doesn't terribly matter who we vote for. There will be a few bits of tinkering around the edges—a tax cut here, another authoritarian law there—but on the important issues the Big Three maintain a conspiracy of complicity.
Do any of them offer any choice on the EU? No.
Do any of them offer any dissenting voices on so-called anthropogenic climate change? No.
Do any of them offer any real options on the size of the state? No.
But they all heartily agree that we should be forced to finance them through state-funding of parties, don't they? They all agree that they should be paid more, that they shouldn't have to have their expenses scrutinised, that people cannot be trusted and that they, the politicians, know better than we do how we should live our lives.
The similarities between the Big Three parties are far more numerous than any differences in their policies. We do not have any meaningful choice at all; as such, the idea that we live in anything resembling a true democracy is just laughable. All we have is the illusion of choice, and the politicos can barely be bothered to maintain even that mirage anymore.
The only option is to ensure that the state is so fucking tiny that it doesn't matter a damn which party gets in, and there is only one political party that wants to achieve that.
NuLabour have been exceptional only in their corruption, and with people like the disgusting Charles Clarke in the driving seat, we shouldn't be surprised. After all, as the old saying goes, you should never trust a fat socialist.
Especially if his ears could be used to receive information from the Hubble Space Telescope and his brain were incapable of processing the results.
Fuck off and die, Clarke, you fucking disgrace. You are a waste of space and oh-so-much matter...
UPDATE: via Obnoxio, I see that Charlie Clarke is not even popular amongst his own.
I don't want to be uncomradely or personal, but for Charles Clarke I will make an exception.
As Home Secretary, you self-serving tub of lard, you were a bloody embarrasment. Many of us up for election at the time you were making an arse of yourself will not forget that easily. So why don't you and your little chums Byers and Milburn stop behaving as if you were the conscience of the Labour Party and go back to being the blairite has beens that you are.
The chattering classes at The Guardian and New Statesman might still think your views are relevant and earth shattering, but most Party members think you are a waste of good oxygen.
Bob Piper and I agree on something. Hang on, what's that noise? It sounds like Hell freezing over...