Padraig Reidy dreamed he saw Saint Jeremy:
At this stage, I’m not even sure it’s the ineptitude that is alienating people previously well inclined towards Corbyn. It’s how utterly blase he and his ever-decreasing team seem to be about what they are doing to the centre left in Britain. It’s falling apart, and Corbyn doesn’t seem to care.
The problem is, he never did. As the “change” candidate in 2015, and the defiant hero standing up to the plotters in 2016, he was really nothing more than an avatar. He was a “true Labour” candidate, in spite of his astonishing record of voting against his party (and not just his party under Blair). He was a man of peace, in spite of his visible excitement around people like Hamas, Hezbollah and the provisional IRA. He was apparently, people even decided, pro EU, in spite of being vocally, vehemently anti European Union. Pointing any of these things out led to accusations of “Blairism”, Red Toryism, and the rest….
In my Jeremy Corbyn dream (dreams in fact; I’ve had more than one), I start off angry and end up depressed. I want to confront him on the damage he’s wrought, and then realise it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care. Increasingly, nor does anyone else.
Update: Corbyn has reshuffled the shadow cabinet. Deckchairs and the Titanic spring inevitably to mind.
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