Two sided stories blog

After the paradoxical disappointment of the pandemic flu failing to kill off large chunks of the political class, the signs of other diseases proving to be life shortening or otherwise dangerous are suddenly apparent.

There is a particularly nasty, treatment resistant infectious disease that comes from getting the splinters from a greasy pole embedded in your vital organs after you have lost your grip and been the victim of a fast slide to the ground. It goes by various names, from Exministeritus, blinkered-suicide syndrome and Hooning cough, to Clarke's Palsy.

The main causes of these diseases are, "spending too long in parliament, with delusions of adequacy", over exposure to Blairite shining teeth, and successive heavy blows to the head from a TV camera, radio microphone or rolled up newspaper. Traditionally the treatment is a course of loyalty tablets, several doses of whipping, and a kind of physiotherapy whereby the victim is shown pictures of others, from the past fifty years, in terminal states of decline from the same disease, in a desperate attempt to introduce the notion of the real world to people who have spent too long as Governing party MPs.

Unfortunately, after 10 years of such treatments that now appear no longer able to cure, or even suppress the symptoms, we have the latest mentally impaired sufferers stepping out...Hoon and Hewitt - the most recent sad victims of this very depressing illness do have names that are somewhat onomatopoeic of their plight - the sounds made whilst hugging a toilet bowl and trying to shout at God.

The great irony is that this blinkered self-destruct-button pushing has come at a time when the general public were just beginning to get used to the beige Brown life again - yes, we could all still laugh at his anti-charisma, his fumbling with PR, his jaw clicking and glass-eyed vulnerability - and in this dull world the shallow transparency of David Wisteria-removal Cameron was beginning to become clear.

The general public... HELLO? (see us knocking on Westminster windows trying to distract them from their infighting stupor)... yes us, the voters, were seeing the chance that Boy David might not be swept into power by the anti-social anti liberal pro Eton tide supported by the SunTimeMailySkyTelegraph ... and then the self-referential self-serving, sensationally short sighted and stupid sufferers from this suicidal tendency decided that it was time to give those Tory boys a big new year's cricketing metaphor present...

This game is surprisingly swinging back to the labouring fielding side - the opposition's best batsmen is bowled a tax break on off stump and edges a dolly to Hewitt at slip, "Oh! well dropped that fielder", shout the batting team, laughing in the pavilion, that could be the test match decider...