As David falls Goliath we cheer, we all cheer as the once great, unruly oppressor falls undignified at the feet of the little man, our little man. Little David, we are so proud, behind you all the way. Your motive and fear have captured our spirit so much so that even as this fearsome giant falls directly onto our homes, we cheer, we still cheer.
So what if our homes broken, we’ll build new ones. So what if our lives have been hindered, it matters not for tomorrow is another day. This day we see your cause as a just one and so will back you to the hilt.
That is what we do you see, for we are Londoners
Derek (for that is surely his name), is leading the London Underground network in protest. No longer shall they work under this iron fist, beaten, drained and desperate, they rise up, make a stand and clap great Goliath slap bang between the eyes. He will fall upon our livelihoods and we shall ask for nothing more than a worthy cause to hide behind. Go on Derek, stick it to the man!
‘What do we want?’ Assurances that no jobs will be cut or pensions lost at any time in the future. ‘When do we want it? Now!
Steady on there little man, that’s a bit vague. ‘At any time in the future’? You cant really demand that sort of thing, but then again what do we know, I bet conditions down in the pit are bloody terrible, cant even begin to imagine. We still believe in you Derek, if its lifetime assurance you want then you bloody well go and get it, London is right behind you.
“Both the mayor and the direct employers have given trade unions clear written assurances that meet all their concerns; namely that there will be no job cuts ……and no loss of pensions now at any time in the future” (Guardian)
Right so that’s all your demands met. Goliath it seems is a realist named Ken. Can we have our tube back now please?
3 days of Tube strike for no apparent reason. You may have got 2500 workers to whimper into a tissue Derek, but just you wait and see what a real ‘angry mob’ looks like.
If ever a party looked destined to bleed, it seems the conservatives might just edge it. Lost in a world of unknowns, poor little Tory Dave just doesn’t know where to turn. Forehead on a broom handle he’s just been spun 50 times. And now he’s forgotten the new rules (published this morning). Commons tactics seem to have buggered off out the window a long time ago. “Tory MPs sign up to PM’s ‘new politics” (Independent). Whilst no expert on the finer displays, surely a red bumper sticker is perhaps one compromise too far.
Fear not Tory Dave, tomorrow is yet another day and with it a new set of rules by which to play. Surely this dizzying red whirlwind will move on soon, leaving your thoughts to clear and regain their muster.
Maybe tomorrow.
Grandpa’s sat up in bed eating his Cheerios, shaking with fear. Curtains drawn, quilt tucked in tight, he has barely managed one sleepy moment, his dreams too full of fear. ‘The Chinese army is invading London. On September 13,’ so confident they name the date. Terracotta Grandpa, models. Please get dressed; the paper is lost without you. The dog barks a gunshot; Grandpa’s breakfast jumps to the floor.
Ever wondered what the Times Head Boy would call the school gardener once his affections had been repelled?
‘Unprincipled ruffian’ snorts Head Boy, lapels firmly gripped, nose proud with purpose. Some cover story regarding the Nazis and an Argentinean submarine, but we don’t really want to read that now do we? No.
The Daily Mail is worried about immigrants and the Sun has some breasts on page 3.
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