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Saturday, July 07, 2007

Looking for the exit

The highlight of Liberator is inevitably Lord Bonker's diary and Jonathan Calder has surpassed himself once more:

I see that Alan Johnson has been defeated in Labour's Deputy Leadership contest by Harriet Harman, who is some sort of niece of Lord Longford. I can only regard this as something of a shame as Johnson has always struck me as the best sort of postman - the sort of fellow who whistles in the street, always closes your gate and has the sense to leave parcels behind the buddleia if you happen to be out. Harman is best known for walking out of an interview on the Woman's Hour programme when it became too taxing, but at least she was following the first piece of advice I give young candidates when it comes to dealing with the broadcast media: Always know where the exit is.

Update: The full diary is here complete with this additional gem:

So it is this morning that the lovely Siân Lloyd arrives at the Hall to cast her eye over my observations. Inevitably conversation turns to the end of her engagement to poor Lembit and she confesses that she could not face the prospect of being called Siân Öpik as "there would always be something hanging over me". I console her with the reply: "Never mind, my dear, you will always have Powys."
Comments:
I can tell you that a fair few Labour members that put Harriet Harman down 1st, 2nd or 3rd as there perefence are now upset and annoyed over her reversal and u-turns over the things should said during the deputy leadership debate. For example her agreeing with Jon Cruddas over Iraq and then denying that she did. If she is willing to lie to the grassroot members of Labour, then how can anyone else trust her?
 
Just a coincidence I know, but "... you will always have Powys" sounds like that line from Red Dwarf, "... we will always have Parrots", which in turn might be a non-calculus derivative from Casablanca.
 
Peter, feel free not to post this comment:

Peter I forgot to add: I can certainly vouch for Siân Lloyd’s loveliness. I still remember sipping filtered coffee and experiencing excellent conversation with Siân and Mark Cavendish (Mark and I attended the same first year science classes) in Siân’s student flat that she shared with four other female students at Talybont in Cardiff. I have never met anyone since who could communicate so well with people from such different backgrounds; Mark was from an obviously upper-class family and me from a working class family living in a council house.
 
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