Labour Leadership Contest

[Section_31]

I wish there really was a marxist dinosaur, a raptor that went around eating Bullingdon wankers then shat them out in equal sized piles. 

[Stickman]

I was going to put his picture in the smarmy faces thread but Cooper is such a smug cunt he can go here.....Would you ever tire pummeling that kipper?

 

I love this quote from him....Corbyn’s brand of socialism would poison the groundwater of British politics for a generation: influencing people, particularly young people, across the political spectrum.....Erm the same young people his party have just written off and confined to the scrap heap.

 

[Dr Nowt]

I can't read beyond a couple of paragraphs of that.

 

The hateful fucking bastards think they have the whole thing sewn up don't they, and they're by and large absolutely correct.

[Section_31]

I can't read beyond a couple of paragraphs of that.

 

The hateful fucking bastards think they have the whole thing sewn up don't they, and they're by and large absolutely correct.

 

They really are. It is sewn up. 

[Anubis]

Ha.

 

You can almost smell the fear eminating from that Telegraph article.

[Dr Nowt]

"Shit. He's resonating with humans. That wasn't part of the plan. What next?"

 

"Pour scorn, dear boy. And if that doesn't work, pour it by the bucket-load and mix it liberally with fear until it does. The proles lap that stuff up; they can't fucking well help themselves.

[Guest Numero Veinticinco]

I think he's probably just jostling for position with Cooper. "I'm the nicest of the three Tories".

Burnham? A Tory? Okay, poppet.

[Anubis]

Unfortunately for Ollie, the proles aren't reading the Telegraph.

[Dr Nowt]

Meant in a more general sense mate. It's pretty widespread, isn't it.

[Jairzinho]

Burnham? A Tory? Okay, poppet.

 

What the fuck is this?

[Anubis]

Meant in a more general sense mate. It's pretty widespread, isn't it.

I know I joked about McCarthism earlier, but it has been a full on onslaught of the type I'm not sure I've seen since Andrew Gilligan reported David Kelly's comments.

 

Fortunately, the scaremongering appears to have galvanised a groundswell of public opinion in Corbyn's favour.

[Guest Numero Veinticinco]

What the fuck is this?

It's me saying I think it's nonsense, without me saying I think it's nonsense.

[Anubis]

Nah. He fancies you, Jairz. It's your new pet name when he moves you in.

[Boss]

I can't actually believe that level of blatant propaganda driven nonsense is allowed in a mainstream paper. It should be confined to a tory blog with about 100 subscriptions from people living in Chelsea. There were no points in that article, it was entirely smear, fear mongering and cliched political absolutes without any semblance of an argument whatsoever, so basically standard tory fare.

 

The bit were he says "the only way to make progress is for Labour to accept our position, our ideas don't win just when the party does" was frightening, it's democracies equivalent of the burning of the Reichstag. 

[dennis tooth]

 

I see you, Jeremy Corbyn.

I see your snowy beard and your regal silver hair. I see your cardigans and your flat cap, your linen shirts, your open collars. I see the corduroy and the elbow patches. You look like a geography teacher on a Yoga retreat, Jeremy Corbyn, and half the time I'm expecting you to crack out some bongos and a spliff the length and girth of a donkey's cock.

But I like that about you, Jeremy Corbyn. I like the fact that at some point some greased weasel in a Savile Row suit probably asked you to put some more thought into your image. I like the fact you clearly told him to fuck off, because you're quite happy dressing like a model train enthusiast who only shops in Oxfam.

I see the steel that your facade hides, Jeremy Corbyn. I see Krishnan Guru-Murthy try to take you down, even though he's a grown man who still gels his hair like a teenager expecting to finger a girl in a nineties cinema. I see the anger flash in your eyes as you refuse to be drawn into the pointless circus, the maelstrom of media bullshit they're all flinging out to muddy the waters.

I see they weren't expecting it, Jeremy Corbyn, when a little integrity actually resonates with people. I see Andy Burnham's confused little Ken-doll face as he looks at the polls. It's almost as if Labour supporters quite like the idea of not plunging thousands of children into poverty, isn't it, Jeremy Corbyn? It's almost as if not everyone wants cuts piled on cuts served up by a bunch of snivelling cunts in tuxedos. It's almost as if fawning in their shadow doesn't constitute an opposition.

It's almost as if you seem human, Jeremy Corbyn, even if you probably are too idealistic. It's almost as if you might actually give a shit. It's almost as if you're doing this because you actually want to help people rather than fill your pockets with caviar and blood money.

It's almost as if you could win, Jeremy Corbyn. It's such a shame, isn't it?

Such a shame that you'll always be too busy, too tired, too perpetually on edge.

Such a shame that your holy task is the only thing you can truly commit to.

I see you, Jeremy Corbyn, trudging through the grass of the cemetery. I hear the chirping of crickets in the night air and the shriek of a distant fox. I see your breath in the cold void, your flat cap barely lit by the gas lamp bobbing up and down in your hand.

I see the duffel bag in your other hand, Jeremy Corbyn. I see the wooden handle protruding from it. I see the crypt, the gargoyles overseeing its marble corners wrapped in ivy, their grotesque faces mocking and taunting you as the sickly yellow light from your lantern casts long shadows on their features.

I see you push the heavy iron door, Jeremy Corbyn, and I hear the metal shriek. I see you step on the roughly-cut stone steps of the crypt. I hear water dripping from the walls as your descend the spiral staircase, the glow of your lamp bobbing like a firefly in the abyss.

I see your feet touch the sodden earth at the bottom of the staircase, Jeremy Corbyn. I see you hang your lamp on a rusty hook on the wall. I see the high roof of the cave, the stalactites dripping groundwater onto the lichen-covered ground.

I see the crude wooden cross in the churned earth, Jeremy Corbyn. I smell the sweet scent of decay. I see you check your watch. It's five minutes to midnight, isn't it, Jeremy Corbyn?

I see you place the duffel bag down on the ground. I see you pull the wooden shaft free and I see its perfectly sharpened point. I see you aim it at a spot in the earth just in front of that wooden cross, your body taut, coiled like a snake ready to strike.

I hear your watch beep once as the clock strikes midnight, Jeremy Corbyn.

I hear you gasp as a withered hand punches through the muck, clawing to get out, dragging itself free. I see the frizzy orange hair, the dessicated head, the empty eye sockets. I see the fanged mouth hissing, spitting dirt. I see a second hand burst free, reaching for you, frantically pedalling the air.

I see you brace yourself, Jeremy Corbyn. Not yet.

I see the torso burst from the earth, Jeremy Corbyn. I see the faded blue of the mouldering old blouse. I see the pearl necklace.

I see you lunge, Jeremy Corbyn. I see the point of your spear crash through the monster's ribs, splintering them like wet twigs. I hear the inhuman roar, nasal and high-pitched. I feel the ground shake as the beast screams, smoke pouring from its rotten mouth.

I see it slump, Jeremy Corbyn, the skeletal fingers twitching and drumming on the earth. I hear you breathing heavily as you pull your weapon free.

This is your real duty, isn't it, Jeremy Corbyn? In the day, you do all you can to keep cruelty out of power. But at night - every night - you're here. All because she's too evil to stay where she belongs. All because every night, she tries to claw her way out of Hell. All because this lady's not for burning.

Every night, Jeremy Corbyn.

Well, almost every night. Charlotte Church does every other Wednesday, just so you can have a nap and a spliff.

I see you, Jeremy Corbyn.

I fucking see you.

 

 

Straight out of a film, as I said hero worship, in the film the good guy wins, in reality Rupert and the rest of the mainstream media will be pummelling his face for the next five years, yeah they did the same to Ed in some ways corbyn is an easier target/ my advice is dont get caught up in this, if he was a real threat he wouldnt be there, hes only them letting you think he is a threat, he is one man against the might of the elites, better him in his tin hat than 60 million its easier to deal with jeremy, like he is the pinhole of our light in the darkness while we have their cardboard box of a system on our heads.

[Section_31]

I can't actually believe that level of blatant propaganda driven nonsense is allowed in a mainstream paper. It should be confined to a tory blog with about 100 subscriptions from people living in Chelsea. There were no points in that article, it was entirely smear, fear mongering and cliched political absolutes without any semblance of an argument whatsoever, so basically standard tory fare.

 

The bit were he says "the only way to make progress is for Labour to accept our position, our ideas don't win just when the party does" was frightening, it's democracies equivalent of the burning of the Reichstag. 

 

Obama's former press advisor was with the Miliband campaign and reckoned it was the most partisan press he'd ever seen. 

[Jairzinho]

It's me saying I think it's nonsense, without me saying I think it's nonsense.

 

Pro Iraq war, anti investigating said war, pro tuition fees, pro foundation hospitals, shit out of the welfare bill, pro austerity.

 

If he's not a Tory he's doing a really good impression of one.

[Bobby Hundreds]

I don't like Burnham I used to but over time I think more and more he'll go with whatever flow elevates his personal status. Plus his face is missing something I don't know what it is. Did he have a cleft pallet or something. In my parliament Gotham City... Burnham would be my Two Face.

[Vincent Vega]

Burnham looks like a deer, I can't take him seriously because of that.

[Jairzinho]

I don't like Burnham I used to but over time I think more and more he'll go with whatever flow elevates his personal status. Plus his face is missing something I don't know what it is. Did he have a cleft pallet or something. In my parliament Gotham City... Burnham would be my Two Face.

 

Exactly the same for me. I thought he was one of the good ones, he isn't.

[Strontium]

A lot of people have been fooled by Burnham. My dad told Baroness Morris a few months back that he thought Burnham was just a hack, and she disagreed and said she thought he was very capable. Go figure. I think Lord Cokehead had it right when he told those prozzies that Burnham just goes whichever way the wind blows.

[Anubis]

 

 

[AngryOfTuebrook]

A lot of people have been fooled by Burnham. My dad told Baroness Morris a few months back that he thought Burnham was just a hack, and she disagreed and said she thought he was very capable. Go figure. I think Lord Cokehead had it right when he told those prozzies that Burnham just goes whichever way the wind blows.

I think Lord Cokehead had it right when he chose to whoop it up ripped to the tits with a pair of brasses rather than spend another minute in the House of Ludds.

[Moo]

Exactly the same for me. I thought he was one of the good ones, he isn't.

He's not one of the bad ones though. I just think he's your typical politician these days, scared to say anything that might upset anyone while he's in sight of the top job. But his history stands him in good stead for me, what he did for the Hillsborough cause of course but also, I know someone who worked for him when he was health secretary and had a lot of good things to say about him.

[AngryOfTuebrook]

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/politics/labour/11767152/Tories-dont-vote-for-Jeremy-Corbyn.-It-wont-end-well.html

 

Wow....just...wow. 

"Our ideas don’t win just when our party does, but when the other party advocates our ideas, too."

 

There's definite echoes there of The Cunt saying that New Labour was her greatest achievement.  Thanks again, Tony.  Thanks a fucking bunch.