The Name Game

I wish I had a nickname - a really good nickname. A superhero nickname. All week we've been hearing and reading about 'The Hawk', who absconded from an open prison. I can't remember his real name, and that doesn't really matter - he's The Hawk.
Next time he appears in front of a judge, we'll hear: 'The Hawk, (or, on a point of law, will that be Mr. Hawk?) you have been convicted of a heinous crime ...'
Nicknames are beloved of the tabloid press, particularly gangsters. There's 'The Enforcer', 'The Iceman', 'Fatboy' ... try calling a West of Scotland boozer and asking for if there's a Fat Boy in the bar, and let me know how you get on.
Sport, too. There's Fergie, Coisty, Gazza, Mogga, Macca ... loads of (granted, fairly unimaginative) nicknames, but it's better than typing out names with more than five or six letters. All the best ones have nicknames. Other athletes too: remember 'Eddie the Eagle'? Conceded, that was taking the pish ...
Even the darts players have got nicknames, and some of them sound like mighty warriors: 'The Power' and 'The Viking', for example.
And our politicians, too. They were not always known as 'The Thieving B*stard Honourable Member for ....'. In less turbulent times there were The 'Chingford Skinhead', 'The Beast of Bolsover', 'Two Brains', 'Tarzan', the 'Welsh Windbag'. And today of course we have Gorbals Mick.
So I need a nickname too. But not just any old nickname - as you can imagine with a surname like Pickering, nicknames were not in short supply at school. I survived - emotionally scarred, but I survived.
I went for years without a nickname, and lived quite happily without one, but it's time for a change. Either a nickname or a tattoo - and at least you can change your nickname if you don't like it!
I do have a nickname. Hurtfully, my daughter Knutt refers to me as 'The Gimp' - and even more hurtfully everyone knows to whom she is referring - so I'm looking for something a bit more substantial than that. Those pumped-up American wrestlers seem to have stolen all the best names, which is irritating, so henceforth - unless I receive any other better suggestions - I shall be known as ... The Balloon. Sounds like a winner to me ...

The week in politics

What more can I say? Two-hundred odd (yes, some distinctly odd!) revelations down, four hundred plus to go. More than enough juicy revelations to take us up to the English local and Euro elections, and we've not even touched on second jobs, directorships or those infamous 'fact finding' trips to sunny climes yet. The Establishment is calling 'enough is enough'; the bishops and the political classes issue dire warnings of votes for those sinister minority parties - God forbid that anyone should consider voting for anything other than the mainstream; enough is enough, let's draw a line under this nasty affair, 'learn the lessons' and basically get back to business as usual. Er, no,chaps, that's not going to happen anytime soon.
We live in a democracy - maybe a very battered and bruised, discredited democracy but a democracy nonetheless. Should voters decide to put their cross against a 'minority' party, however odious their views, that's their choice. Unlike too many of our political 'leaders', I don't think that the electorate is stupid. Bogeyman stories about the BNP or UKIP won't scare them back into line; if they vote for those parties it's because they want to. They don't have to - they could just spoil their ballot papers if they chose to, or just not bother voting at all. Dangerous? No, just democracy. And if there is an increase in votes for the smaller parties, or for Independents, the establishment parties really have no-one to blame but themselves.

The more you spend, the more you save!

I really can't be allowed out shopping on my own - I have too keen an eye for a bargain (Caroline points out that something is only a bargain if you need it, but she clearly has no idea about the game at all). If I go to the shops for basics like bread or milk, I will invariably unearth a bargain - cans of dog food: buy six and get six free, for example. Too good to miss - even although I don't have a dog. Over recent months I have been trying hard to curtail this habit, and I've been fairly successful. This weekend I was really put to the test, however. I had two jobs to attend over at Craigleith Retail Park - the Marks & Spencer extension opening (complete with a PENNY BAZAAR)and Sainsbury's 140th birthday celebrations (25%, yes 25% off all clothing!)- bargains galore! I also had a job to cover at Ocean Terminal - all those shops to pass, deals aplenty. Everywhere I turned, more bargains! With an iron will, however, I turned a blind eye and walked on by. Even HMV (a CD deal frenzy) was ignored. I felt pretty good, but relapsed slightly when I went for a haircut on West Granton Road. Couldn't resist a wee look in Lidl, and left the store with around £5 worth of goodies - wild bird food (I've already got tons of the stuff) and a pepper plant (or capsicum aaruum, or somesuch). I've got to be honest, I've no real need for a pepper plant, I don't know what to do with a pepper plant, I'm not really too fussed about peppers generally but hey, at £1.49 - how could I resist? Caroline helpfully suggested what I could do with the pepper plant, but I have put it in a growbag instead ....

Garden Update

And sticking with the horticulture theme, a wee progress report on the garden. I did indeed plant my pepper in a growbag (well, Caroline did), alongside two tomato plants I also bought recently (for no good reason; but more bargains!)at a PEP Neighbourhood Group fundraiser. Soon, no doubt, I will be able to eat for free, living off the fat of the land (as long as it's a tomato and pepper salad, anyway). We also bought a load of end-of-season annuals to brighten up the garden a bit, and my dad came down this morning (pictured above, a study of horticultural concentration) to cast an expert eye over proceedings and help with planting. It's all beginning to look pretty good, although with minimal interference from me it's hard to claim any credit. My own particular specialisms (I use the term loosely) are the Yorkshire lavender (I look at it every day) and the nature/wildlife 'project' (I hung up a bird feeder and fill it up). Well wonder of wonders but the lavender is really sprouting - the threat of relegation back to bleak old Yorkshire has clearly worked the oracle.
And as for the bird feeder, it's been a delight. I received a RSPB pictorial guide to garden birds (unfortunately no sea eagles) and I have managed to tick quite a few off. All the usual suspects - sparrows, pigeons, blackbirds and magpies - but quite a few colourful wee visitors too: chaffinches, blue tits and great tits among them.
The tits are attracted by fat balls which I have hung by the seed feeder. No matter how I try to word the last sentence it just sounds worse and worse, and it just deteriorates when I introduce 'pricking out' and 'dead heading' from my list of gardening 'things to do'. Great tits indeed - fnarr, fnarr! I will leave this subject before it degenerates further - who would have thought you could pack so many double entendres into a wee garden space?

The Sporting Week

Congratulations to Falkirk for managing to avoid the drop. I saw Falkirk at Easter Road early in the season and admired the way they tried to play their football. John Hughes' insistence in continuing to try to play attractive attacking football almost cost him dear, but he's a good bloke and I'm delighted Falkirk have survived.
I do feel sorry for Dundee United, though, losing out on a European place. Craig Levein is a very talented manager and his team played some great football during this season. They say dodgy decisions even themselves out over the course of a season but I don't think that's been the case with Dundee United. They've been the victims of some shockers and it's ultimately cost them dear.
Congratulations, too, to Rangers for breaking Celtic's dominance of the League in recent years. It's hardly been a vintage season for either half of the Old Firm but that won't bother the boys in blue. A win's a win, and for both halves of Glasgow coming second is nowhere - the clamour for Strachan's head grows as we speak. Despite his past achievements at Parkhead Wee Gordon has never really fitted in with some elements of the Celtic faithful; perhaps there's an opening here for Michael Marti should he choose to pursue a new career outside politics?
And it's farewell, too, to Jimmy Calderwood of Aberdeen. The betanned Bernie Winters lookalike is moving out; another very likable bloke, but being a good guy sometimes just isn't enough. I finished the Radio Scotland SPL Predictor competition in 1567th place; I don't think I qualify for a European spot but I believe I've avoided relegation (scared to check how many people actually took part, though!)

The sporting highlight of this week for me though was a Channel Four documentary repeated last night on one of the satellite stations. It told the story of Mohammed Ali and 'Smokin' Joe' Frazier and the build up and background to their epic 'Thriller in Manila'. It was painful to watch - not just the physical pain of two giants hammering each other to within inches of their lives,but the mental aftermath. Smokin' Joe is a shadow of his former self, shuffling around a run-down gym in Philadelphia's badlands. Joe is a bitter man - he'll never forgive Ali for the taunts of 'Uncle Tom' and the gorilla quips. Ali has apologised to Frazier's family and he also apologised in the New York Times, but he never apologised to Joe himself - and, ravaged by Parkinsons disease, he's never likely to now. Frazier was asked to comment when Ali was asked to light the Olympic flame: his response - "If I was stood behind him I'd a pushed him in". The fire's gone out of 'Smokin Joe's eyes but the embers of rage still smoulder away deep inside. That heavyweight contest was acknowledged to be one of the greatest fights of all time - fourteen gruelling, punishing rounds in a cauldron of heat where neither man would flinch or give an inch. Raw brutality and almost unbearable punishment - round after round after round of bludgeoning couldn't separate the titans. During the final break, despite his appeals to go on Frazier's corner refused to let him out for the final round. Joe was almost blind; he couldn't defend himself but he wanted to get in there again one last time, banging and slashing away in the only style he knew. In the other corner Ali was physically exhausted, his battered and bruised body in spasms of agony. He'd had enough, begging his seconds to cut his gloves off. They didn't, Ali got his Pyrrhic victory, but so his torso had been so hammered that his urine ran blood red for days afterwards. Neither man was ever the same after that titanic struggle - they left part of their souls in that ring in Manila - but it seems that Joe will fight it over and over until he dies. It's a desperately tragic story, but it was a riveting documentary.

The Week Ahead

Inverleith Neighbourhood Partnership meets on Monday evening and our Community Council annual general meeting is on Wednesday night. I've said before that I'm going to rein back on some of my community commitments, so I'll be standing down as Secretary after umpteen years of taking minutes (although I'll carry on doing the job until the community council elections in October). It's only fair that someone else is given the opportunity to enjoy the many pleasures that being a secretary brings!
The most important meeting of the week though is likely to be the meeting of NEN Board members with individual members of staff, taking place tomorrow. Following these meetings we'll all have a clearer idea of where the NEN is going, and what our roles (if any) will be in the future direction of the community newspaper. It's been a very long and sometimes anxious wait, causing a lot of stresses and strains and dragging everyone down. The Board has some tough decisions to make and I don't envy them one little bit - I've been on that side of the table in the past and it's a rotten experience. It's a relief that the waiting's almost over, though - whatever decisions are made. It may just be that I'll be spending more time with my fat balls and tits ... geddit? Fnarr, fnarr!

I'll keep you posted ...

Ordure, ordure

Ten days in and it seems that The Telegraph's expenses expose is beginning to lose momentum - still front page news, but not the lead tomorrow morning. The daily diet of dodgy claims, creative accounting and downright fraud has fairly hit the mark, though - it's certainly the greatest crisis to have engulfed the 'Mother of Parliaments' in my lifetime, and when the dust finally settles on this truly awful scandal democracy in this country will never be the same again - thankfully.
I've never known members of the public to be so enraged - even the war in Iraq didn't attract such widespread revulsion. The British tend to be fairly relaxed about most things and it takes events of some magnitude to shake us out of our lethargy. The unfolding events of the past ten days have done just that, however: many people had always suspected that their elected members were 'at it', but it's the scale of the claims that have been astonishing. They say there's no such thing as a free lunch, but for too many MPs there's not only free lunches but everything including the kitchen sink also comes free too, courtesy of the generous British taxpayer. It begs the question: is there anything at all that they actually pay for themselves?
True, there have been a few casulaties - resignations here, apologies for oversights and paying back cheques there - but so far not one MP has paid with his seat: no-one has lost his job. They still get paid their 'basic' £65,000 per year. The fact is, the system isn't set up to deal with issues as grave as this, and if the errant MPs decide to hang around like a bad smell until the next election there's nothing we the elctorate, the political parties or Parliament can do about it. Even next door in the Lords, two Honourable Members - caught bang to rights selling their services to amend legislation - are likely to be 'punished' with a six month suspension. That will show them!
Public confidence in our democratic system is at an all-time low, and it's clear that it can't be left to the politicians themselves to sort this mess and restore the reputation of Parliament - they caused the problem, aided and abetted by a greviously flawed system based on trust (!) which they themselves initiated.
It seems that Speaker Michael Martin may be offered up as some sort of sacrificial lamb, but if Westminster believes that the sacking of the Speaker will assuage public anger they are even more out of touch with the public mood than I thought.
Yes, Speaker Martin shoulders some of the blame - his actions in blocking and hindering attempts to reform, modernise and introduce transparency to the allowances system was shameful, as was his treatment of MP Kate Hoey last week. His emphasis on finding the Telegraph's 'mole', other than tackling the scandalous practices he oversees, showed a man completely out of tune with public feeling in the real world outside the Palace of Westminster.
It's well known that some of the 'toffs' at Westminster have never taken to having a working-class bloke from Glasgow in such an important constitutional role, and defenders of the Speaker are claiming this is a class-inspired plot. Mr Martin's current travails have nothing to do with his proletarian roots, however - this is all about his recent performance, and a considerable number of formerly loyal Labour members are seriously questioning his ability to continue in the role.
It was widely expected that Mr Martin - 'Gorbals Mick' to his increasingly numerous detractors - would announce his plans for an orderly retiral in a statement to the House yesterday, but it didn't happen. An apology, yes, but an exit strategy? No.
It's likely that an unprecedented motion of No Confidence in the Speaker will be defeated later today, but it's equally likely that Members will vote in enough numbers to make the Speaker's position untenable. Whatever happens, he'll have to go.
In one of Westminster's many antiquated rituals, a new Speaker of the House has to be dragged to his seat to take his place. We may soon witness a variation on this theme with the incumbent Speaker having to be dragged from that same seat!
A dignified exit would be preferable all round, but it seems that despite growing pressure Mr Martin is intent on hanging on - is it just possible that a reported £100,000 golden handshake should he survive until the end of this parliament may perhaps be uppermost in the Speaker's considerations here? Parliament breaks for another recess on Friday, and the Speaker will be meeting the main Party leaders before then. Expect a compromise deal - but I fear that a cherished seat in the Lords for Lord Martin of Springburn may be a step too far and totally unacceptable to the Great British public.
Of course the removal of Speaker Martin won't in itself resolve the deep-rooted problems that exist at Westminster, but it would at least be a start, a statement of intent. Reform is desperately needed, and quickly. And one or two criminal prosecutions for fraud wouldn't go amiss either - honestly, how can you fail to notice that you have finally paid off your mortgage?

Away from the reek of corruption and sleaze of Westminster, I turned to the Eurovision Song Contest for some light relief. Gone are the bad old days of dodgy voting and Soviet-bloc conspiracies - well, in theory anyway. See, you can reform antiqauted institutions! Norway (usually nil points) won by a landslide and the United Kingdom restored some national pride. However my own personal favourite - Malta, the best singer and song by a mile - finished well down the field. I will be checking the postal ballots for irregularities and may demand a recount - she wiz robbed, I tell you.

And finally, to that other Theatre of Dreams, Easter Road. Hibs were never going to be winning anything this season, but over the last couple of weeks they have been doing their damnedest to make sure nobody else wins anything either! An unlikely win over Hearts and unexpected points from both Rangers and Celtic - who'd have forecast that? My fear is that Mixu will now think he's found a new formula for success - eight men behind the ball at all times, then a hoof up the park for Riordan or Fletcher to chase ... it might win you a few points, but it sure ain't pretty to watch. I'm old enough to remember Inter Milan's cattenaccio system, equally boring but very effective. Fortunately Celtic's buccaneering brand of attacking football overcame the Italian's negativity in the 1967 European Cup Final, and I know which style of football I'd rather watch.
And still on football, congratulations to Hearts on clinching third spot and a place in Europe. It's well deserved for their consistency this season, and, had they had a couple of effective strikers, it could have been even better. There's been no interference with team selection this season, they have a likeable and tactically astute manager and it shows. Credit where it's due (he said through gritted teeth).

This week's picture is of that old Westminster warhorse Winston Churchill. I wonder what he'd make of it all - the Eurovision result, I mean?

Snouts in the trough ...

Well, somebody had to do it. The detailed information about MPs claims has been available for some time and The Daily Telegraph was first to go public with selected snippets last week. And nauseating snippets they were too. The great and the good of all Parties have been filling their boots on a mind-boggling scale - think 'quantitative easing' for the Westminster set. Our political representatives - the same 'honourable members' who have been talking of austere times, belt-tightening and difficult choices - have broken no rules, of course; perish the thought. No, it's all been done by the book - the famous, now infamous Green Book - and clearly some members spend more time studying this tome than they do on scrutinising other, clearly less important pieces of legislation.
Whiter-than-white Lord Mandelson blames the press! Yes, it's a right wing conspiracy! It's nothing to do with MPs being greedy bastards, it's the system that's at fault and the Tory press are making mischief. Doesn't it turn your stomach? Within the rules? Yes, but what about Harriet's famous 'court of public opinion'? Our economy goes down the tubes, thousands are losing their jobs yet the Westminster elite has never had it so good. Recession? What recession? And these are the same people who lambasted 'Sir' Fred Goodwin's greed!
There's clearly loads more to come out, so other than waiting until July the government may be as well releasing all the salacious details - every bath plug, every wreath bought for a Remembrance Service (and then claimed back on expenses), every box of tea-bags - now, straight away. The European and English local government elections are just weeks away, and the steady drip-drip of more damaging revelations could well continue right up to polling day. Embarrassing, yes - but can things really get any worse by releasing all the incriminating details now?

Woolas looking sheepish
If the allowances revelations were horrific enough, we witnessed another car-crash moment when Immigration Minister Phil Woolas was door-stepped by actress Joanna Lumley in the House of Commons. The redoubtable Miss Lumley apparently forced a change of government policy on the Gurkhas on live TV - quite a feat.
This could set a precedent - next week East Enders' Dot Cotton will be invited to put forward her ideas for solving the Middle East crisis, while TV chef Ainslie Harriot will be tasked with solving the banking crisis ....

Surprise surprise
In a week of shocks and surprises perhaps one of the biggest turn-ups was Hibs' unexpected victory at Tynecastle. It wasn't a classic (how many times have I said that about Hibs games this season!) but a make-shift team showed commendable grit and ground out a deserved if unlikely victory. What a different season it might have been had the team shown such a fighting spirit in their other games. You don't mind losing (much) when you feel the players are giving their all, but too many times this season that just hasn't been the case.
Hibs could still have a say on the destination of the League title, but expecting them to perform consistently over two games is probably asking too much. Rangers come calling at Easter Road on Wednesday, the title theirs to lose. Can Hibs spoil the party? Celtic will be hoping so, but I think not. Then again with Hibs, you just never know ...

Local Matters
Out socialising on both Friday and Saturday nights (karaoke on Friday at the Club; meal at La Lanterna and an early birthday party for Knutt in Monteith's off the High Street on Saturday) so a very lazy Sunday afternoon for me - just haven't got the stamina any more!
Spent a couple of hours watching birds feeding - again, disappointingly, no sea eagles but dozens of sparrows coming and going. The bird feeder is clearly the Drylaw version of the Whistle Stop Cafe! Two in particular seem to have a voracious appetite - I know it's not a feeding trough, but I have now called them Hazel and Blears (pictured).
We were also visited by a vixen and her cub for a while yesterday, while down in the View Brian tells me that the vixen there has produced four cubs this year. It's always a joy to watch these wee things out playing under the watchful eye of their mum; I'll hopefully get some pictures next week.
The flowers? Lots of wind and rain this week and little sun so not much progress on the colour front. The lavender? Still there, but sleeping I think. I tried threatening it last week so this week I have been treating it with kindness. The difference - sod all, as they say in Yorkshire. We're still officially in Spring, however, so I will try to remain patient.

Community Matters
On community matters, I've heard of two prominent community activists suffering heart attacks over the last couple of weeks and that makes me even more determined to limit my level of involvement; prioritize the things I am currently involved in. There's more to life than meetings, and I'm still trying to get the balance right. I still feel guilty sitting out in the garden enjoying the sun - I feel I should be 'doing something'. That's not healthy and it's not right - it's got to change.
Having said that it's not so easy to extricate yourself from community activities and I have three voluntary community meetings next week. We also expect some news about the future of the NEN - sub-groups of the Board were meeting last week to come up with some proposals, so at least we should know our fate soon.

Pigs, rats and sea eagles - an average sort of week

This week, I are been mostly ... growing a beard and avoiding swine flu.
The beard is for a short drama Kevin is making as part of his college course. I haven't shaved since last Thursday and, as expected, the stubble is growing in a delicate grey colour (Apparently I look too young to play the father of one of the film's leads (grateful for that, at least), hence the need for ageing). It is many years since I last grew a beard - the last one contained interesting shades of ginger - and you tend to forget how uncomfortable and itchy the whole beard-growing process is. Oh, the things we do for our art, dahling!!! The latest 21st century version is not a pretty sight - I have no desire to be Edinburgh's Kenny Rodgers, that's John Mulvey's job - and the beard will go the moment filming has finished on Tuesday. Having said that, a Jason King moustache could be quite fetching .... has that style come back? Has it ever been away?
Incidentally Pilton Video sent me the link to two other 'classics' I featured in. You'll find these hidden gems at:

http://piltonvideo.blip.tv/#1789035

Don't watch them if you want to be cheered up, though - bleak is the word. Not quite as scary as Gordon's YouTube appearance, but getting close ...

Swine Flu

There's nothing the media loves more than a good pandemic, and given that bad news is good news for the tabloids Swine Fever came at a great time - there's not much more can be said about the economy, but plagues, pestilence, Armageddon ... brilliant!
Very scary (though still not as scary as Gordon on YouTube)blown up images of what the virus might look like(if you banged into it in Sainsbury's car park, for example), dire projections of mortality rates across the globe, 'don't panic' warnings alongside graphs of booming international sales figures of face masks (buy your shares in pharmaceuticals now, folks!)... it's an ill wind!
You always know it's time to batten down the hatches when Prof Hugh Pennington appears on our TV screens more often than Ant and Dec. The message: be vigilant. The underlying message: Armageddon unlikely.
From a personal perspective, not having visited Mexico or knowing anyone else who has, I feel relatively at ease. However there's always that nagging doubt ... should I be taking the dire predictions more seriously? It's true I was down in Yorkshire recently. Is it just possible that I have contracted a local variant of the virus - maybe whippet 'flu or it's close relative ferret fever? I'll keep you posted if there is any deterioration in my condition; perhaps the greying of the facial hair is a symptom of something more sinister than the advancing years?

Garden Report

Titchmarsh here again with the latest garden bulletin. Remember last week I pointed out that it's all about patience? Well, the patience has run out and there is still little sign of any change on the Yorkshire lavender front. True, the plant may be revering to the stubborn Yorkshireman stereotype ('I'll do it when I'm god and ready, an' not before' - Geoff Boycott) - but if it doesn't get a move on soon I'm taking it back to it's homeland for a refund!
I forgot to mention last week that I also invested in a very basic bird feeder (minimal cost, minimal assembly instructions, minimal maintenance, minimal everything really). Well initially there was a distinctly minimal level of interest shown by the local bird population too, but as the week has progressed there have been more and more visitors.
Imagine my absolute delight when yesterday morning the feeder was visited by a mighty sea eagle! These magnificent birds - the biggest birds in the British Isles with a wingspan of ... well, bloody huge, were only recently introduced to the island of Mull so it was a major shock to see one in urban Drylaw.
Before I contacted the RSPB and Max Clifford I quickly checked my Ladybird Book of British Birds (for I am no ornithologist) only to discover that my visitor was not a sea eagle but was instead a rather large sparrow. Perhaps I had the magnification up too high on my binoculars (which I got in a Christmas cracker last year). Never mind, I will keep my eyes peeled ...

Sport

An uninspiring trip to Easter Road yesterday to watch a fairly meaningless (for Hibs, anyway) game against Dundee United. Only the most deluded Hibee can have harboured any hopes of European qualification and those hopes were extinguished following a lack-lustre display (I nearly said 'performance', but that would be giving far more credit than is due). The end of the season can't come quickly enough - I fear the worst in the forthcoming games against the Old Firm and, particularly, at Tynecastle this Thursday. And Thursday night for a derby game - what an absolutely brilliant idea!
I'd prefer to see us going back to a top league of 16 or 18, with teams only playing each other twice, the bottom two being relegated with third bottom playing off against the third team in the second division. At least then there would not be the over-familiarity you have at present, and there will be a real excitement about the big derby games again. It won't happen, of course, and we can look forward (?) to more of the same next season. I still haven't renewed my season ticket; still undecided.
On a more positive note I see that I have risen to the lofty position of 1437th in BBC Radio Scotland's Predictor competition. This is a remarkable achievement of which I am very proud - perhaps a top 1000 finish is just possible; there's everything to play for!

Politics

It's been the latest in quite a catalogue of 'bad weeks' for the government. This week it was self-inflicted wounds over the handling of the Gurkhas and MPs expenses (and did I mention Gordon's YouTube appearance? Oh, I did).
Twelve years ago this very week young Tony Blair stood on the steps of Downing Street basking in the adulation of huge, enthusiastic crowds. A bright May morning, a new dawn. New Labour, new hope.
Today, Brown's administration bears all the hallmarks of John Major's fag-end government: blundering from one crisis to another (often self-inflicted) crisis, mired in sleaze accusations, bereft of vision or even of basic competency. This week the Gurkhas and the MPs allowances fiascoes, next week - who knows? There a whiff of decay and decline about Brown's government that's also very reminiscent of the end of the Major era - former 'big beasts' are circling and even cabinet insiders are beginning to speak out openly (although, very predictably with Hazel Blears, she was 'misrepresented' in the papers - although she wrote the article!). It's come to a sorry state when we have people like that paragon of rectitude David Blunkett - who twice had to resign from cabinet following personal scandals - offering sage words of advice to the beleaguered Prime Minister.
Then there are the back-benchers: it's not just the 'usual suspects' who are in open revolt. They see their jobs and careers on the line, and the end of a comfortable lifestyle to which they have grown increasingly accustomed - it's a bleak and uncertain future out there in the real world. There's talk of some of these specimens deserting, already sounding out the Liberals about jumping ship when the inevitable happens - speaks volumes about their values and commitment, doesn't it? These people have no shame.
In boozy discussions in the Jinglin', some old friends often argue that even a poor Labour government is always better than a good Tory one: we remember Thatcher well, we lived through those Tory governments.
But for far too many members of the public that's not the case any more. For a generation of voters Thatcher is someone you read about in history books, a spectre of the past, something that happened a long time ago (Thatcher was first elected 30 years ago this week). For many younger voters - and increasingly for some not so young, with less harsh recollections of the Thatcher years - the question being asked is: 'Can the Tories be any worse than what we've got?'
Labour can't play the 'bogey man' card with any confidence next time round - Cameron is no Thatcher and comes across as a pretty decent man - and with the European elections next month, followed by the publication of MPs expenses in July, these are desperate times for Labour.