Friday 14 January 2011

Ever time a friend succeeds, a little something in me dies

OK, I don't really believe that (it's Gore Vidal, by the way). I thought of it because I watched the by-election last night. That's right, the dashing life of the Plashing Vole includes staying up until 2.30 watching the results from Oldham and Saddleworth.

Anyway, as I followed the twists and turns (poor night for the Lib Dems, disastrous one for the Tories), I noticed a shadowy figure skulking around on the edge of the victorious Labour candidate's circle. 'I know that figure', I thought to myself. 'The one dressed like he robbed Greenwood's without the benefit of a torch'. I was right. My old friend, tormentor and partner in student politics crime, Richard. If there's skulduggery to be done, Richard was always the go-t0 guy. A more likeable and less trustworthy man couldn't be found anywhere. Although he's quite rightwing by my standards, he's essentially a Stalinist: to him, the ends always justified the means, which is why he was so successful in the New Labour backroom. Unfortunately, the means became the ends - which again is why he was so successful in New Labour.

Does that sound mean? It's not meant to: he's a great guy and I genuinely admire him, and it was great to see him contribute to a great result.

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