Wednesday, 4 September 2013

The Return Of The Native

Tracking round the web I came across a name that stabbed the memory in spasms of horror.  Surely, it was gone never to return but no, it will soon be with us again it seems.

According to Guido Fawkes the succession to the Dukedom of The Mouth of the Humber is about to be confirmed.  Lord John Prescott, the present Duke and The Soul of Labour Party, was famed for his shut your gob or I'll clout you approach to public relations.

He was once the Terminator of Transport and later Prince of Property whose Pathfinder Programme helped to rid inner city areas of the scourge of the British working class property owner.  Also he was Deputy Prime Minister with special responsibilities for the ladies in his office.

There were malicious and totally unfounded suggestions and rumours that somehow he had acquired substantial property interests.  That they were untrue is certain.  Also, quite rightly his family had their financial affairs protected from persons whose intention was to ask questions.

He has found an opening for his son, David, to proceed to the House of Commons. The "safe" Labour seat of Greenwich and Woolwich could be his at the next election if the chips fall right, or rather Left in this case.

Another Prescott, it seems, another estuary and this one is even bigger.  David what is more claims he is not just another Oxford or Cambridge intellectual "Red Prince" child of a Labour magnate who has ridden up to town on the politics escalator.  He is a true worker who has known what a life of hardship is really like.

Leaving school at the tender age of 18, barely out of nappies by modern standards and supported only by his father's freebies and extra mural earnings, he went on to slave at the typeface as a reporter for a local news agency.  Then he got the foreman's job at last when rising to the giddy heights of an Assistant Editor at the BBC.

From there he made his way to the ultimate stage in sweated labour, Public Relations, and all those hours of toil and tears ensuring that the expense claims were kept up to date and he spun the right spin for whoever was doing the paying.

My little heart would bleed were it not for the serious stress being suffered from unstoppable and helpless laughter. It also prevents me from comment if only to avoid a writ from one of the Prescott family favourite firms of lawyers.

I will leave it to the long ago comedy act who produced this immortal take on the metropolitan chatterati and their relationship to the workers. Monty Python on modern class
says it all, watch, listen and enjoy.

All I can say is what they might say in Yorkshire, give over you daft deleted by Editor.

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