Let’s talk about Wolverhampton. And Labour.

[wemyss]

After the current writing frenzy is over, I shall, I promise, respond to all the kind comments awaiting such response.

I am all too aware that to a few of my readers, Wolvo is, simply, where Fr Paddick is from, in the Village Tales novels; and, to far too many LJers in A Certain Fandom, merely where a member of A Popular Beat Combo, M’Lud is from.

Comments

[froganon]

I regret the loss of your man but I have thought of you as housemate and I have eaten milibacon over toasted buttered english muffins for breakfast several morning this past week.

Your command of English history puts many Americans to shame I believe. Our schools in the United States do not do an adequate job of teaching history [or foreign languages in my opinion]. Consequently, I've learned much history from you and from my dad [now deceased] and from my housemate.

I find your statement "...I love my country far more than I love my party..." much to be admired and the history in this post one that I had never heard of.

Thanks for this. I appreciate you!

[muuranker]

I wish that most supporters of every party in power in a democracy thought as you do about the second-runner(s). Perhaps it's not as high as the secret ballot or universal suffrage, but simply permitting oppositions to exist isn't enough.

I do wonder about one party being 'for' or 'of' a certain 'kind' of person, defined by their relationship to capital, or anything else. Maybe we are in transition to parties which are centred around, and explicit about their ideology. But perhaps that is wishful thinking.

[pathology_doc]

The Labour Party as the party of the Milibands and Harriet Harperson, rent-a-demo and Islington-and-Notting-Hill-champagne Socialists, Len McCluskey and Russell Brand, Gordon Brown and Ed Balls and Andy Burnham gazing plangently through his mascara, is dead as mutton, and a good thing, too. The party of envy, metropolitan faddishness, Rochdale, and Cool Britannia deserves to die out... Labour as the party of the working man and woman, even in an economy far different to that which birthed it, in which the worker was down t’ pit hacking away at coalface, must however not die - although it must not become further, or remain so far as it is, the wholly-owned subsidiary of the troughing, rent-seeking, antidemocratic public employees’ unions.

This, a thousand times this, and a thousand times again... and likewise (with names and places changed as appropriate) for its Australian counterpart with the curiously divergent spelling. An old Labor (sic) stalwart had attributed to him a saying that a party which once comprised the cream of the