August 2, 2009

The general election cannot come soon enough. Not because I have any particular desire to see Cameron and his cronies walk into Number Ten, but because I want the oxygen of publicity to be withdrawn from Harriet Fucking Harman.

In today's Sunday Times, she states (and I can hear just how she'd state it) that never again will the Labour party NOT have a woman as either leader or deputy.

"People would look at it [the party] and say, 'What? Are there no women in the party to be part of the leadership? Do men want to do it all themselves?"

Now, I have no problem with a woman having power. Likewise, a man. But what concerns me is not what does or doesn't dangle between someone's legs, but the ability that lies inside their skull.

And privately educated barrister daughter of an aristocrat Harriet, who sent her kids to a very exclusive private school while telling the rest of us that our sink estate schools are fine, can frankly go fuck herself.

Because what she means is that just because she's incompetent, disliked and largely ignored, she, Harriet, her, should still always have a very significant job on the clearly justifiable grounds that she has a pair of breasts and sits down to wee.

This is not discrimination in any way, of course, because first of all Harriet is an equality zealot, and second of all, being an equality zealot means you can twist any argument in your favour, as anyone who dares to disagree is immediately racist, sexist and probably a sadist.

If she was in business - the real world that politicians, and especially those from Labour, simply don't know any more - she'd have been fired years ago for the gross misconduct of damaging the very organisation for which she works.

But then that's the trouble with this grasping bunch of self-entitled tossers - no one is ever, ever, wrong.