I’m about twenty-five thousand words into this month’s NaNo. It’s (touch wood) pouring out like the piss leaks out of a kicked tramp and I’ve been lucky enough to experience that magical trance-world of just sitting back as the in-skull movie unfurls in my head and typing like a madman, trying to keep up with it.
I’ve even stopped buying The National for the duration. I figured I’d need the time I normally spend, reading the news and insulting more-than-deserving political hacks on twitter, for the serious business of typing filth. Once I’ve got this draft under my belt, I’m going back to buying it every day. And tweeting torrents of abuse and shame at any reactionary politico dumb enough to put their head over the parapet.
I did take a couple of hours out the other night to watch the (Scottish) leaders’ debate on TV at The Scary Wifie’s house. Jim Murphy giving it the best line of the night, chiding Ruth Davidson, “if you can’t be right, just be wrong as loudly as you can”. Living proof that no-one, not even Jim Murphy, can be all bad.
Nicola Sturgeon, as ever, getting the loudest applause of the night. All the polls are pointing to a hung parliament and Sturgeon, putting Murphy on the spot, demanding he said yes or no to an arrangement with the SNP. Of course, Murphy smirked, prevaricated and evaded the question. Is it any wonder the electorate are fed up to the back teeth with Westminster and its traditional soundbite politics?
Murphy can’t (supposing he even wanted to) publicly embrace a progressive alliance in case it alienates some hypothetical floating voter somewhere who voted conservative in 2010. Cameron’s stuck between a rock and a UKIP-place. The all-party rush to the middle of the road is precisely why the SNP (and Plaid and the Greens) are wiping the floor with the opposition. The policies people want to hear, in plain language and no pretence to be a bit conservative when talking to wealthy voters, a bit labour when talking to working class people. This is precisely what’s been missing for years in politics.
The lib-dems are in an enviable place compared to five years ago. Now that they’re not just unelectable but less electable than the Yorkshire Ripper, they have free reign to promise whatever they want, because they’ll never be called on it. A review of Britain’s drug laws? But didn’t you promise that in 2010? And you’ve been in government for the last five years? No matter. No-one in their right mind would vote for the squishy bit of the failed coalition. So they fielded what appeared to be John Inman. A guy you just know would be happier running at you with a tape measure than he is pushing his goldilocks crap (or, less spending than labour, less cuts than the conservatives, as they keep putting it).
Ruth Davidson is just plain terrifying. Facing electoral genocide next month, she’s mutated into some sort of radioactive psycho-vermin, backed into a corner and showing its teeth. Which will presumably resonate with all those floating voters who identify with, and respond to, blind animal rage.
It’s a month to go and the establishment have been busily smearing Sturgeon and Salmond, as if those two are some sort of independent entities, unbound by a political party made up of over a hundred thousand individuals – all with recent political experience. This hubris on the part of the Westminster parties is, frankly, comedy gold. I’m almost sorry we only have another few weeks in which to enjoy it.