I was 73 on Sunday, and I don’t usually like birthdays. They remind me that I am getting closer to death, and the world is getting closer to hell in its handcart, but this birthday was different. I woke in a cheery mood, because Jeremy Corbyn had just won the Labour leadership. Hooray! Marvellous. At last a change from all the mealy-mouthed, middle-of-the-road, jargon-spouting, scaredy-cat wets, who have led us into a money-worshipping, war-mongering, planet-wrecking pit of inequality, apathy and despair. Now here was a sliver of hope that we may get out of it. And the sun was shining. Fabulous.
But then I heard What the Papers Say on the radio, and read some of them. What a shocking flood of ordure-coated backstabbing, bitterness, sneering, mockery, mendacity, bile and spite was being spewed at JC. It almost spoilt my birthday, but not quite, because I remembered Corbyn’s final rally, which was held just down the road.
I went just to be supportive, expecting to be a bit bored, planning to leave early and be home in time for dinner, but what a surprise when I got there, to be gob-smacked by the thrilling, rousing and uplifting atmosphere. I normally find it embarrassing to be wildly positive, but this time I must, because it was full of excitement, optimism, hope, cheering and happiness. And laughs. Yes, all the speakers cracked excellent jokes. And so all of you who think committed lefties are pissy-faced, earnest, joyless creatures, think again.
I stayed to the very end. Who would have guessed that people would ever dare say “comrade” and “socialism” in a positive way and out loud, without shame, and that politics could be fun, fun, fun? But they did, and it was, thanks to Jeremy Corbyn and his team, supporters, chums and massive audience of all types and ages.
Who would know this, from the stitch-up news we’ve been getting? So I’m telling you. Jeremy won’t be leading Labour over a cliff. He can’t. They’ve already fallen. They’re mouldering down on the ground. But if we help him through the crap-storm, he might haul them up. Nobody else can.
