Whoever Wins We Lose: Fear and Cowardice in the UK

Part 1: "There never was much hope. Just a fool's hope"-Gandalf.

My first foray in to politics was disastrous setting the shape for years to come. Pen hit ballot for the first time back in 2015, when I hesitantly voted Labour. Green Party had been debated for some time but that voice in the back of my head had been shooting its mouth off saying repeatedly, "wasted vote!". Unfortunately, it's a two horse race in this country unless you want to achieve some minor victory at local level. Anybody who says it's any different is just kidding themselves. I put an "X" next to Margaret Greenwood, some adorable looking woman. There was no chance I'd have voted that Esther McVey, who loved to hide her homophobia with the classic statement that politics and church shouldn't mix. She also despises immigrants. One time I saw her by the West Kirby train station campaigning with a few reprobates holding up signs trying to catch some attention. I gave her some attention alright. To let her know she wasn't welcome in my town, I pulled down the window of the car, twisted my head through the gap and screamed, "Esther, you're a lizard!"

Despite not minding Greenwood, I couldn't feel the same towards Labour's leader, Ed Miliband. What an ugly freak. Dude looks like I tried to draw Wallace from the Aardman cartoons. Sure, he's environmentally concerned but hardly all that effective. It didn't matter. The main story at play here was Liberal Democrats dropping so many seats. Their coalition with the Tories set up after the last election had been viewed as cowardly and a sell-out of all their principles for power (which they hardly got anyway). All of this I can understand, the Lib Dems are mostly melts and always have been. The coalition only made this clearer. What I can't understand is why these Lib Dem voters would then shift to conservatives. They let us down. As Balthazar Marie put it, "The Lib Dems lost more deposits than we did when we rented that house for a week in Abersoch".

Abersoch was our 2nd trip away. The first was a camping holiday in Ffestiniog, which ended in us seeking refuge in a disabled toilet after abandoning our tent. We'd been sold on what I now perceive to be a dumb idea of a river side campsite and had opted to pitch as close as possible to the water. On the website, there was a minor warning that the area was occasionally prone to flooding but what did occasionally mean to some teenage kids? Try convincing them. You got more chance of seeing the Seattle Mariners in a World Series.

In the early hours of the morning, I had been woken up to the reports that we were, "under water". Having fallen asleep in the middle of eating an angel cake with the evidence still in my hand, one could say I was useless to the world. I had to sit out the tent moving mission on the count of my current disposition. The rest of the gang didn't fare much better and soon gave up on the task. You'd think being from a seaside town, we'd do well in water but we behaved like true Ho-Dads 'til the end. We abandoned ship and sought refuge in a nearby disabled toilet, passing around a single bottle of vodka that was unforgettably dropped and smashed in to pieces on the floor before it was finished. The culprit has never been forgiven and never will.

Our 2nd holiday together was actually going rather well until our female companions announced that they were going out in to the town of Abersoch to have a girl's night. Big mistake. Not long after their departure, I suggested that rather than wallow in our own misery that we have a boys night. Only fair right? That infamous night cost us greatly. Using Project X as our guide, we went about our own destruction bit by bit.

We set off fires outdoors and indoors. There may have been some explosions. A picture of U2's Bono was not spared and became nothing more than a pile of ash by the end of the night. You have to remember some of the men, including myself, hadn't forgiven Bono for his little stunt of forcing Songs of Innocence on to our iTunes without our permission. Household items were thrown out of windows. All finished bottles were launched in to the street, regrettably causing a serious problem for the locals. We hot boxed rooms. We kicked down the landlords perfectly kept notice board. No regrets here, it had it coming. We mattress surfed down the stairs. We staged water fights that caused the electricity to go on the fritz. We threw items of food across hallways. We blasted each other with the fire extinguisher, leaving white residue all over...

Ever the considerate one, it dawned on me that our female companions would need some form of apology for this chaotic act. Otherwise, they wouldn't understand how and why the house got in to this state. It was decided we would write a note and leave it for them. "Sorry, things happened, love the boys", was etched on to piece of paper and left on the entrance gate. To spice things up a bit, one of the guys picked up a few flowers from the garden and placed them next to our note. Personally, I thought it was a real work of art. We stood admiring our masterpiece, each of us hoping that this one note would explain why this all had to be done.

Barely a few hours in to the depraved mischief, the girls returned after the landlord had called them when the locals had informed him of some dangerous and troubling behaviour occurring at one of his properties. They walked right in observing all the evidence of a good night. It is fairly possible that the hardcore pornography being blasted in full surround sound in the living room did not help things. We hid behind the sofas, terrified of the wrath the girls were about to unleash. Those who couldn't get a spot behind the sofas, hid behind the bannisters on the stairs.

When one of the girls noticed our numbers were greater than previously, they pointed to the strange intruder and shouted, "who is this?". One of the guys blurted out, "that's James!", like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I'd damn near forgotten about James. A local that in our drunken debauchery, we'd kidnapped and dragged over from the streets to be submitted for questioning. He had to swear to the police the next day that he was absolutely there of his own accord and certainly not being held against his will. The icing on the cake was one of the girls asking why we had done what we had done. This is when I pointed out maybe they didn't see the note on the way in and earned a well-deserved slap with a sound that could be heard in a galaxy far far away.

The infuriated landlord came down like a ton of bricks with threats of deposit removal. In the morning, we called a boys meeting in the kitchen. The mood was clear, we had let down our girls and you don't do that. In front of us was a list of items that needed replacing. Ranging from a mop to a fire extinguisher. The first was easy, this could be picked up in any shop in town. The latter very difficult. Where could one purchase a fire extinguisher out in Wales on a Tuesday afternoon? Well, where there's a will there's a way. He who dares and all that. One of the boys was adamant that he knew a place we could steal one. A nearby family campsite had loads just begging to be stolen. It wasn't like we'd be putting any kids in harm, it was simply that our needs were greater than theirs right now.

We drove past the camp site slowly on a reconnaissance mission sussing the area out. There was our fire extinguisher by the reception. We pulled up a few yards down the road. A diagram was placed on the hood of the car detailing the mission like we were one of Melville or Mann's criminals about to pull off a heist. Leon The Professional without the kiddie diddling.

Side note but anyone that doesn't use physical media these days revealing the full plan is a fucking amateur. None of this digital age shit, it has to be a physical form. Whiteboards and blueprints all the way. If we lose this, we lose ourselves. "We pull this off and we get our deposits backs. Let's get our deposits back!", said one of the crew. "And we get back on good terms with the girls", said another. Amen to that. "Oh and when it's all done that’s when we drink the stone wines", I said. We got back in to the car and drove back to the campsite to complete the heist that would make us. As we drove along, we boosted our spirits by singing, "When Johnny comes marching home again. Hurrah! Hurrah! We'll give a hearty welcome then. Hurrah! Hurrah! The men will cheer and the boys will shout. The ladies they will all turn out. And we'll all feel gay. When Johnny comes marching home!".

"Should we cover the number plate of the car?", asked one of our gang. "Na, that would only make it worse, we're in and we're out", said the getaway driver as he upped the volume on Chromatics Tick of the Clock Slowly, we drove through the 5mph entrance speed limit not to arouse suspicion. Pulling over by the red and black booty we required. Our grab man slid the passenger door open, dived towards the loot and scooped it up in his hands like a new born baby. Oh no, a woman playing tennis had seen this thievery and sprinted off to find the camp site security. "Drive! Drive! Drive". "Not without the grab man!". With the grab man and the haul safely back in the car, the getaway driver floored it 0 to 60, sadly in first gear. He was no Ryan Gosling.

It didn't matter though cause we made it without being caught. Al Pacino would have been so proud, he'd declare it to the world, "this crew is good". Back at the house, we may have had too many stone wines because we ended up busting out the new fire extinguisher and spewing out that white residue again. Wasting our noble efforts and putting our lives on the line for nothing. The Lib Dems lost their deposits. We lost our deposits. I wonder who lost out more. Probably our integrity. You'll be happy to hear our third holiday to hell on Earth, Magaluf, didn't go any better but that's a tale for another day...

Part 2: "False hope makes you cynical"Bill Maher.

The 2017 election was a whole new ball park bringing about unexpected results and false hopes. Jeremy Corbyn and John McDonnell had transformed the Labour party in to a half decent outfit the youth could get behind. Not quite as radical as the '70s but certainly a shift back in the right direction following Tony Blair's total corruption of the party through his acceptance of Thatcherism. Some people have never trusted Labour ever since and quite frankly I don't blame them. There was no denying thought that some of the propositions being discussed in 2017 were rather sexy. At the time people laughed at the prospect of free internet, referring to it as a radical policy but after COVID that's now widely seen as an essential living requirement and is moving towards being nationalised.

In the middle of great financial struggle and outrageous austerity, Labour created a fully costed manifesto that single handedly should have won them the election. This proved to be useless though because campaigns are not about what you can do but how you can ruin your opposition in the media. It's pure trash and fighting talk with no concern for substance. All the Tories had to say was, "Magic Money Tree" over and over, a load of nonsense that somehow detracted from their own terrible plans of how to handle the economy.

About the hardest struggle Labour had, other than Greg Knight's bold campaign video, was how to recover from their position on Brexit. It was unclear. A Eurosceptic, Corbyn had always backed leaving the EU but had to rethink this in order to maintain the youth vote, which was highly important due to his popularity amongst the kids. A shame because a left exit would have been highly appealing. Had that been offered at the time, I might have voted leave but knowing full well the Tories would fuck it up, I unhappily voted remain.

I'm sure Corbyn would have been great at sorting the negotiations but there was still such a stink over him backing down, supporting remain and even dangling the idea of a second referendum (which was seen as undemocratic and disrespectful). Corbyn sold out on his own beliefs just to maintain the youth vote. It was always going to be a difficult position for him and there was this great mistake amongst younger voters of making Brexit a race/xenophobia issue dividing the working class and generations when it shouldn't have. Whole thing was way more complicated than that. I don't think younger voters were as familiar with the problems of being in the European Union and misunderstood the older folks resentment towards it.

Generally though, I liked Corbyn and everything he represented. He seemed far too kind to be a politician and maybe that was always his weakness. Could he ever be tough and get dirty if required? McDonnell was more likely to. It wasn't a lesser of two evils situation but here we had a candidate we actually liked and wanted to back for once. How rare is that? Not quite the perfect cabinet (Thornberry and the pro-Israel Gardener were always a bit questionable on a few things) but on the whole a strong one at least on home turf, which may be about as good as it gets in the political arena. Corbyn represented maybe not fully but partially that old school Labour, allowing independents and local parties to step aside and ensure his victory.

Victory is a strange word because he didn't win that election but neither did the Tories either. They lost their majority and had to form another coalition, this time with the Democratic Unionist Party. A bunch of cowardly fellows who are anti-abortion and same sex marriage. Was there no end to how the Tories would sink to stay in power? What did it matter though? Faith had been restored. There was something magical about Corbyn ending speeches in Liverpool to All Together Now by The Farm and hijacking various concerts. Everywhere you looked Corbyn was there. There was this feeling of change being spread that the youth crave. He tapped in to that.

Danny Stern was at Wirral Live but he passed out before he could see Corbyn's speech. He lasted a few Libertines songs before he had to be removed off the floor by security and placed in a medical emergency tent. Ricardo Carvalho and I didn't make it, we were doing some partying of our own up in Sheffield. As though in synch, the pair of us had recently broken up with our girlfriends and were enjoying our new found freedoms. Each of the relationships had grown tense and so we needed the escape.

We sat on top a hill one a cold miserable British morning and we agreed things had to change. The chains had been unshackled and the terms of our release was on the basis that we would not dictate when and where nights would end but would wake up wherever we woke up come sun rise. If someone offered us something, we took it. Be it a bed, conversation or substance. There could be no hesitation. Sacrificing all control to ensure the maximum number of pleasures crossed our paths. The more unexpected the better. We wanted risk. We wanted uncertainty. Because we believed only good things would happen to us. It was sort of like a manifesto, a bond between brothers and for a time it really worked. One night we ended up at this graveyard party after a strangers invite. I find this bottle of red and begin sipping away feeling merry. There's this woman across from me at the table and we get talking. Right at the moment I'm going in for the kiss, I see Ricardo in the back throwing up on someone's gravestone.

During those few weeks, we turned down nothing and we woke up in all sorts of places. Creating unforgettable memories if only we could remember them. The feeling never left us though. Further down the line, when I'd broken up with another girlfriend and Ricardo was still down over the same one, we tried this style of living again but it was a disaster. We were older, I had a child now and it wasn't fun drinking any more, it was alcoholism. Back in 2017 though, we were living the dream. Ok, so we didn't win the election but our enemy was weak and this would soon cost them the war. The collective feeling was come that next election, which would be very soon, it had to be, Corbyn would fight again and this time win.

Part 3: "Everybody knows that the dice are loaded. Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed. Everybody knows that the war is over. Everybody knows the good guys lost. Everybody knows the fight was fixed. The poor stay poor, the right get rich"-Leonard Cohen.

How wrong we were. The 2019 general election was about as soul destroying as it gets. Everybody has that single one election which completely demoralises them and puts them off politics for all eternity. The one where you storm off the pitch, hang up your boots and say, "I'm not playing any more". This was mine. If 2017 was A New Hope, 2019 was definitely The Empire Strikes Back

Having an election only 2 years later was all along the right lines. We had that in the script given the Tories majority loss. A snap election was necessary as the Tories couldn't pass through their shitty Brexit withdrawal agreement. Rushing through the process, a move which would in time cost them. Everything was lined up as it should, ready to see my first Labour government during my voting life. Those in need of food banks, the pain would be over. The results came in, a landslide victory for the Tories. I went for a long quiet walk alone, I didn't want to be bothered by anyone. Where did it all go wrong?

Part 4: "It was never ours to win anyway"-Every Scouser when they fall out the prem race last minute

The towel had been thrown in, I would never again commit myself to any election so emotionally. At the time, I blamed the Scots for all backing SNP. I get their desire for a stronger seat at the table but it was like they didn't get the memo. We had Corbyn, which meant the smaller parties and independents were supposed to back off. Those on left who traditionally wouldn't vote Labour had a candidate worth backing so it was time to step aside. I guess maybe the Scots really felt powerless. Would I have done the same had I come from the same lands as William Wallace? Did they get what they wanted? Has anything changed for them? Genuine question.

Looking back, this was not the main issue at hand. Those antisemitism shouts may have had some effect (the great irony being that the Tories are a hideous party filed with racists and bigots) but truthfully Brexit was all anyone wanted to talk about. Anything else had to take a hike. All social issues were forgotten. Nobody cared about the poor folks queuing at food banks, they just wanted a clean Brexit to go with their fish and chips and whichever party could promise that would prove the most popular.

The Tories made that their entire campaign and so I guess that's what broke down the red wall like Hornburg and won them the election. A divided working class ended their alliance with Labour and the Tories ran away with it picking up all kinds of voters they would never in a million years get. Although reasonably new to the game, it was clear this was unprecedented. Our ranks were divided worse than ever. Humpty Dumpty was broken and was never going back together again. Leaving us dumfounded with the pieces forever slipping through our fingers. Nothing added up any more. Like powerhouse philosopher Bob Seger, I found myself with Two plus Two on my mind.

Part 5: "I don't have any reason to hate anybody. I believe in good karma and spreading good energy"-Vanilla

Ice

Fuck The Hives, I love to say I told you so. Since then, all the Conservative party has done is shoot themselves in the foot. Dixie Collins has more toes left than these fuckers. They did a piss poor job of Brexit making us somehow probably even worse than when we were in it. People are still pissed off about COVID and they're not going to settle for the pathetic cry of oh it would have been a hard job with whoever was in charge. Oh yeah and they've done almost nothing to fix the economy, which was correct me if I'm wrong always (falsely) believed to be their strong suit. Too much time has passed and too little has been done. Time to go!

In the press, they like to say otherwise, envisioning a different world where they were successful in their affairs but their members continue to jump ship. Media manipulation has got them this far but in the eyes of the public their back catalogue of errors has built up too heavily this time like a TV show that cruises by for a few seasons on easy street but ignores its problems beneath the surface, hiding them under the rug and eventually the whole thing collapses in on itself due to the broken foundations. They were going for pace and forgot those slower episodes that develop the characters. You've all seen it happen in one show or another.

In the past, they've used cheap gimmicks to attack labour, hiding their lack of solutions and for the past decade this strategy of destroying the opponent rather than actually winning has somehow worked. But maybe that's just politics. Corbyn's slightly left wing? We'll tell people he's communist. A fully costed manifesto? We'll just pretend it isn't and shout, "Magic Money Tree". As long as we keep repeating, "strong and stable government", it will convince people. Speaking and manifesting itself in to existence. Did they think this strategy would forever? Eventually people are going to realise you haven't actually done anything positive. This is that time.

Part 6: "A Man is an angel that has become deranged, Joe Fernwright thought. Once they –all of them- had been genuine angels, and at that time they had a choice between good and evil, so it was easy, easy being an angel. And then something happened. Something went wrong or broke down or failed. And they became faced with the necessity of choosing not good or evil but the lesser of two evils, and so that had unhinged them and now each was a man"-Philip

K. Dick

Why am I not celebrating so strongly though? What, no partying for months on end, sleeping where the body crashes, riding the wave of a long lost pipe dream? It is 1933 and I am waking up in an overcrowded opium den, laughing in to the camera, reminiscing on a life that never happened as Ennio Morricone scores my final screen moments before the inevitable freeze frame like Noodles. Why does it mean so little? Because Corbyn is no longer leader of the Labour party. After the 2019 disaster, in came fuckhead Keir Stamer. A sleazy lawyer with the least trustable face I have ever seen (and yet people like him). I wouldn't trust him any more than a car salesman. He symbolises a reshuffle back to the centre. I wanted the damn Blairites out and so this move only alienates me. The rotten eggs have taken over the basket and the one at the forefront has a strange affinity for helping releasing child sex offenders. Barely even a smear but pretty common knowledge. I think the Tories have tried to use it and failed miserably.

There is very little that is exciting about what Labour are proposing. When it comes to Israeli/Palestinian conflict, one of the dirtiest, most embarrassing things I can recall that our country has been involved in during my voting years, there are no plans for a cease fire. A government should represent its people and I'm sure we did a nationwide poll on who UK citizens really support in that one it would be the Palestinians. No question about it. I see the Palestinian flags on the street every night. No-one would dare bring out an Israeli flag. The governments motivations are self-interested.

So why are we still aiding Israel's wrongful destruction of the Palestinian people? The answer to that will make you think maybe we need Lord of War 2 more than ever. Our involvement in it makes me sick to my stomach. One thing being passive and standing by while an entire people is being slaughtered but we are actively engaged in this brutal act. Where is the alternative to what the Tories are offering?

So for a long time before this election was announced, I'd have probably been happy to abstain from even voting. Bring on the you can't not vote shouts. Yet, at the same time I have so little faith and confidence in the idea that if labour were to lose my vote they would feel compelled to make changes in order to win me back. 100% would be naïve to think that. So does abstaining have any impact? They're pretty set at the moment on their lousy cabinet of buffoons. This led me in to the possibility of looking in to local candidates and smaller parties. Maybe go for the minor victory and put some pressure on the big boys. Does this even work in such a two horse race? Christ this electoral politics business is nonsense. How did we let it become this way? It's the whole system that needs changing. So we're back to looking at abstaining. Does any move hold any power or is it like the infamous Alien vs Predator tagline of "whoever wins...we lose"?

Finally, the Tories reveal their true nature and in the run up to the election release their appalling plans that horrify me so badly that I have to come out and vote Labour. Not because I have any love for Labour but simply to get the Tory bastards out. Because we have to stand up for the mistreated immigrants, the trans communities and the homosexuals. To stop the racism and the bigotry that comes with not recognising rights and cutting support payments. Is this to be the way it is for the remainder of my political life? Not voting for something but to stop something. What a depressing game. Burn it to the ground.

Nearly 10 years in and the conclusion I have come to is that if we let the Tories have their way, this country would go so disgustingly right wing its untrue. I want to back out, out of it all but I cannot, not completely. Sadly, keeping the Tories out is my only agenda and the best I can really offer at this point. We're not voting for Labour, we're voting against the Tories. That's it. So you just roll out of bed, storm down your polling station, angrily put that cross next to your local Labour candidate, leave and go about the rest of your day. There is no feeling good about yourself. You do not get that option. You don't win in politics, you just lose less.

Part 7: "You mean we're not gonna get the crown, save the town and Mr Krabs?" "I don't even think we're gonna be able to save ourselves, buddy" "Thanks" "Don't mention it" "Well, it looks like what everybody said about us was true, Patrick" "You mean that we're attractive?" "No, that we're just kids. A couple of kids in way over their heads. We were doomed from the start. I mean, look at us"Spongebob and Patrick

As the polls show, Labour are most likely going to run away with this election and so for the first time I will see a Labour government in my years of voting. The Tories are going down like Jack Dawson. Something I've been waiting a long time to see and would have given anything for years ago in my younger days. Yet, now in 2024, I barely even see it as a cause for celebration. In life, you don't get rewarded or feel a sense of achievement from avoiding doing the wrong things, that comes from actually doing good things. So, how can one be happy about the outcome? By voting labour, you're not voting for a party that will do good things, you're merely stopping the Tories doing worse things. Understanding that, there's little satisfaction in what the end result will end up being. Welcome to the world of lesser evils.

Part 8: "Laugh and the world laughs with you, weep and you weep alone"-Oh Dae Su or simply, "No-one likes a moaner"-all of us at some point or other.

Perhaps though, maybe we could find some humour in the Tories pathetic desperation as they try just about anything they can to keep the ship from sinking. After all, we've already seen the totally outdated preposterous proposal to bring back military service (that actually came out of nowhere, I can hear Dale Cooper whispering in my ear, "what year is this?", and the downright corrupted Rishi Sunak trying to buy this election by offering money to town that get his party seats (what a fucking loser). This millionaire couldn't be further out of touch with his takes on the NHS and education. The other day he genuinely blamed strikes as the reason for the NHS's failings. Need I say any more? The iceberg is coming, the ships zooming in!