I missed PMQT that week, I’ll admit it, I’d been worn down by the walking dead shuffling meme by meme to a racist, entitled, Great British fake off, rendered afraid by the zombie-fying forces of Murdoch and the pith hatted medias sly tally ho for the billionaire vision of the new serfdom..I was blown out by the Carry on House of commons inanity of the coming isolationist trumping of Albion and the consequences for my kids education
and the National Health service about to become the Virgin and associates health company sell off. I had the wacky adventures of an aging wonky indy band in Plasticine to make in an attempt to alleviate the bitter broken heart of a socialist facing a shit storm of inane compliance..
I’d worked late in the studio (garage) and missed the tolling of the bells of uprising, probably a good thing, if i’d heard it live I may have had a cardigan vest.
It happened like this but I can’t tell you why..the career politicians gathered in the house of conmen had been eyeing up Jeremy who was sitting staring at a sheet on his lap and saying nowt, later it emerged that even his own colleagues had feared he’d grown sick, he looked more pale and red eyed than usual and seemed distracted.. you could hear the whispers on his side contained a lot of concerned ‘Jezzas and jeremys and the hubbub opposite had the phrase ‘we got him’ and the word broken in it..
The prime minister wore her splendid new plum leather trousers and gave it some histrionics about a strong unified nation having sent some in-genuine commiserations out to a victim of something, in the tone of smug winners everywhere she looked to Mr Corbyn to add his opening bit and a long awkward pause fell and radiated out from him like a SBD fart of some magnitude, then just as the tension reached it’s disconcerting apogee Jeremy stood and smiled suddenly at the hollow clothes horse opposite and spoke.
‘Did the right honorable lady opposite sleep well last night?’ some Whig wag brayed ‘Yes thanks’ and childish laughter ensued
‘Did she? Was she not woken by the bells? The alarm bells that wake the people of these islands? did she sleep through them, her and her swivel eyed Bullingdon billionaire lackeys with their deregulation and free market bun fest disregard for their homeland, these marionettes of boggle eyed super rich media barons based over the seas and their corporate pals who pay nothing in to our island yet tell it what to think, those dinosaurs who run riot through pension funds and gorge the profit of the common decent man, the worker, the veteran, the aspiring young, was she not woken by the bells that toll for her and her backward Etonian privilege? The heartless hollow competition? Did she not hear these decent ordinary Brits get up and go on and then realise..They like France and Germany and Holland? Did she not hear the alarm bell sound of the billions of pennies dropping as they further realised that her and her co conspirators and Mr Trump and his golf club friendless well to do’s are the real enemies of liberal democracy, Not Europe, Not Putin and not Kim Jong, THEM! they are thieves and liars, mad men even, selling greed and competition and calling it ‘Nature’ and fate like comic super villains..and disregarding the youth who yearn for more, for real unity not a sound bite for the Mail and Sun, Did she forget Iceland? Did she forget the misery her snake oil salesman austerity caused for the infirm and elderly the struggling single parent the disadvantaged..DID SHE?’ The house of open mouths was historically stunned at this unexpected and heartfelt outburst and the career conmen in there had even forgot to bray as Jeremy Corbyn fixed his opposite number with a steely and coruscating stare..and finished..
‘Is she so cocky and arrogant so swept up in her own hyperbole and certainty that she thinks Google and Amazon and the aforementioned Bransons and Murdochs can serve our nation up to her elitist mates like Tescos? Has she really slept through the bells?
I’d like to finish by quoting Iggy Pop gentleman..’
“Life is not a business”
The Alarm bell went off and woke me in error at 4.30am on Thursday morning and the dream was gone like snow on water.
Brent Jackson Peacehaven. 20th April 2017.