Jilted John's One-Man Show!

Meyer jumps ship after just two years in the position; and will make way for the third incumbent in five years. Following the high-profile defection of Emma Nicholson, and threats from other backbenchers to stand as Independent Conservatives, it seems as though noone wants to be in 'John's Gang'. Meyer is off to Bonn, one of the few places in the world less exciting than Croydon, to waffle and pour drinks for Britain as Ambassador. Nicholson is away to the Liberal Democrats, a party so tediously politically correct and worthy yet at the same time so laughably insane that it should perhaps amalgamate with the Church of England, in order to re-define her 'principles'! Even Humphrey, the Downing Street cat, decided he'd had enough and legged it, only to be captured and returned to face Jilted John's displeasure ("...and may I remind the feline opposite that he will come to regret his decision..." etc.).

It is hard not to feel sympathetic towards Mr. Major, faced simultaneously with the contumely of Ms. Nicholson and her ilk and the contempt of the Redwood Right. By trying to be all things to all men and women (and cats!), he comes to mean nothing to any of them. Like a fallen leaf swirled by the wind, he vacillates and drifts in circles, blown one way and then another apparently at random. His natural disinclination to cause offence, in most instances a virtue, is, in politics, a terrible weakness: it enables Ken 'The Fat Controller' Clarke and The P*** Artist Formally Known As Deputy Prime Minister to bend and mould him at their whim. He is putty in their hands, knowing that were either to withdraw their support, he would be finished.

Yet there is little doubt that John Major hides beneath his bland exterior a tough, almost ruthless, streak. The tactics he employed when faced with defeat in the Commons over the ratification of the Maastricht Treaty, which many political commentators felt crossed the line between strenuous persuasion and sheer blackmail, indicated as much. The firmness of purpose he diplayed during the tense days of his second leadership contest was a further pointer. But the problem lies in his everyday actions, not the backs-to-the-wall, one-off crises that have characterised his government and which he has surmounted, so far, successfully.

The loss of Emma Nicholson is, 'in real terms' (to borrow a Treasury expression), a very small one: not only does she have the appearance of a female impersonator and an irritating, nanny-knows-best speaking voice, she clearly has very little grasp on reality. Her assertion that the Tories' "lurch to the Right" forced her to leave the party as a matter of conscience is one of the more ridiculous utterances of a Parliament that has had more than its fair share of bathos.

Lady T, emerging into the limelight of the City of London to give a lecture in memory of Keith Joseph, rightly dismissed this charge as 'baloney', before going on to give her successor not so much a stab in the back as a full-frontal 'Glasgow Kiss'! The pro-Europeans, at the forefront of whom are the unholy triumvirate of Ted Heath, Edwina Currie and Peter Temple-Morris - a group with, between them, as much charisma as a list of telephone numbers - were dismissed in scathing fashion as being not 'One Nation' but 'No Nation' Conservatives. Poor John's leadership was demolished clinically but inoffensively, as she pointed out the fundamental flaws of a government that alienates its supporters without attracting new recruits in their place; and which is in essence event-driven rather than event-shaping. She reiterated the policies that had won the Tories four consecutive terms in office: a free-market, tax-lowering economy; an anti-federalist European policy; strong defence; and, critically, the reduction of government spending.

If it all sounds familiar, it is broadly what the Conservative Party promised us at the last election but were unable to implement due to 'unforeseen circumstances'. Thus 'reduced taxes' became 'increased taxes' and 'lower public spending' became 'higher public spending' - all in the twinkle of an eye and a shrug of the shoulders ...'sorry, guys'n'gals.....but what can you do?'.

If the Big T's speech had not spawned the wailing and gnashing of teeth from the Wet (i.e. sodden) wing of the party, then it could be argued that her opinions are now irrelevant. The fact that the drips and puddles who would so gladly hand over our national sovereignty to unaccountable foreign bodies (an act that was formerly termed 'treason') are so visibly upset by her speech is an encouraging indication that the truth still hurts!

Amidst all the vituperation and enmity, the PM, recently voted 'Most Irritating Voice - Male' (Cilla Black took the female 'prize'), states doggedly that he will win the next election; has not begun to fight yet; knows what Britain 'wunts'; etc. He considers the polls to be inaccurate (which may be true) but at the same ignores the evidence of the actual voting opportunities that are presented to the public. This must be the only Parliament during which 'mid-term blues' have lasted for its entire duration!

If John Major wins the next election, the credit will be his alone. His colleagues have shown themselves to be so shifty, vain and self-aggrandizing that they would deserve only contempt for their posturing. But until Jilted John realises that the only way to quell the animosity in his party is to allow the public (remember the public?) to decide the level of our enslavement to Brussels, he will be continue to orchestrate a one-man-band.

It cannot be that hard to see a way ahead. If it is, let us have the immediate election of a Labour government and see what it can do! It cannot be worse than what we've got now! And its Leader may even enjoy the occasional soak in the bath...

It now emerges that there are more social workers in the UK than there are building workers or front-line troops.

In a way, this is perhaps our best defence: should any country consider invading Britain, they would surely hesitate at the thought of the endless counselling sessions and unspecified 'therapy' that they would doubtless have to endure even if the invasion was successful.

At the same time, we learn that employees of a certain hairdressing salon are to be offered free 'stress counselling' to alleviate the pernicious, cumulative effect of their customers' moaning, which, apparently, ranges from mundane slagging of the government to the most intimate descriptions of bowel movements, surgical operations and even sexual perversions!

Pass me the scissors!

...is Raymond Illingworth, for his suggestion that the England cricket team's dismal failures in the Test series against South Africa is the fault of the players' wives!!

This is akin to blaming the wall into which you happen to crash while driving your car five times over the limit!

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