This stanza was written on September 22nd, near the beginning of this year’s Labour Party Conference. We had heard a bit more by now about the party leadership’s attempt at short notice to dispense with Tom Watson’s services as Deputy Leader of the Party. The judgement seemed to be that Corbyn must have been in on the plot, even though he had of course denied it. Jez prefers to be out of the room when the knives come out.
Another opinion being mooted was that people at the top of Her Majesty’s Opposition were taking time out from concerns such as Party policy, Brexit, and the nation’s good in this time of crisis, to consider Corbyn’s future successor – and to do whatever they could, by whatever means, to ensure that Tom Watson would not be involved in choosing that person. Extraordinary and unpleasant priorities and goings-on. Extraordinary and inept timing.
We had also heard from Corbyn himself, talking to Andrew Marr, of his determination to please his old mates Len and co., while continuing to defy many of his Shadow cabinet and huge numbers of his (fast vanishing) supporters, by continuing to stay on the fence with regard to Brexit, and to keep “Leave” as an option. “Having your cake and eating it,” in other words. And Labour would win the election after all and Prime Minister Corbyn would then head off to the EU and make a great new deal with them. Easy as pie.
Take joy in the cakes, delight in the pies, that come in profusion, singing sweet songs, from Corbyn’s cuckoo kitchen.