(Neil’s Note: This essay is from my archives. The date stamp on it is April 28th, 2005.
Ten years on, I could write almost exactly the same essay again… – except for two things. One, I would be far less kind to both the Lib Dems and UKIP than I was a decade ago. And two, I would raise the question: “Who do I vote for to get all the bureaucrats sacked with their pensions cancelled, and all the politicians lined up and shot?”)
On the fifth day, of the fifth month, of the fifth year, of the century that would have been the fifth if the calendar had started in 1601, every adult in the islands called Britain is invited to take part in a charade. That charade is called a general election. It’s that time of the decade again, when the politicians offer us a chance to rubber-stamp their system. They ask us to select, from among a field of candidates, which best represents our views. Such selections, totted up in more or less complicated ways, are to determine which of two (or perhaps three) criminal gangs is to be granted licence to rule over us against our wills for the next four or five years.
Democracy, say the pundits, brings power to those who represent the will of the majority. Oh, yeah? Let’s look at the record. Last time this charade took place, in June 2001, just 24 per cent of eligible voters voted for Labour. 76 per cent of us didn’t. 40 per cent of us – only one per cent less than Labour and Tory voters put together – did the honourable thing, and refused to engage in the farce. Did the will of the majority prevail? Not a chance. The lying, thieving gang that call themselves Labour were awarded another licence of all but absolute power to bully and rob us all.
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