June 12, 2008
It was one of those "what???" moments - but, literally, only for a moment.
David Davis, would-be Tory grandee, shadow Home Secretary, single-parented council estate boy turned strict right-winger, and self-styled former SAS hardman(though he rarely alludes to the complete but perhaps less impressive 'Territorial Army SAS' part of that description) has resigned both his position in the party and from the Commons itself, in what he says is a principled stand against the admittedly outrageous new 42-day detention without charge law that Brooon and his cohorts - supported by the greedy DUP - revoltingly bought yesterday in the Commons (see today's word of the day).
The problem is, he's only done it so he can force a by-election which will involve him standing against himself, as neither of the two main oppostition parties are to stand against him (Lib Dems because of their principles, which they'll tell you about should they ever find and/or understand them; nor Labour because they'll be completely trounced and Sub-Prime Moron Brooon couldn't face that all over again just now).
In other words, it will be normal by-election coverage on the telly but featuring just one candidate talking endlessly about something he thinks needs further, wider debate.
Well, I agree with the last part: It certainly does. But commentators the length and breadth of Britain are already doing that, be it in newspapers, horrible blue blood gentlemen's clubs or down the Dog and Duck. The House of Lords will also no doubt do that at some tedious length and there's a very real chance that Brooon will end up with a blooded nose at their hands with this anyway - possibly, hopefully, for his sake as much as ours, even a fatal one.
Which means Davis' faux resignation - because he's clearly going to win his own seat back anyway - is really just a chance for him to say: "Look at me and my firm judging chin, a la Julian, aka furiously sensible nephew of Fanny and Quentin, when Anne gets scared of the butterfly man (who I believe turned out to be a spy, but I could be mistaken) in (Famous) Five Go To Billycock Hill."
There's nothing at all principled about an unprincipled publicity stunt - and that's precisely what this is - no matter what the underlying theme.
Just when Dave "Wind Turbines And Ruddy Red Old Etonian Cheeks" Cameron was beginning to look as though he had a half normal-sounding shadow cabinet with a real chance of unseating the ghastly Brooon And His Distinctly Unmerry Men, Davis goes and shoots himself and his party in the foot.
It's like watching a baseball-hatted William Hague awkwardly getting down with da Rastas at the Notting Hill carnival all over again.
Taxi for Mr Davis, then. And yes, I want callback.
