Lawlessly Yours column

Bill Lawless.
Bill Lawless.

I was starting to think in terms of ‘poor old Ed’ then I pulled myself together and thought ‘sod that, poor old us’.

He’s the man who wanted the job so all his problems are self-inflicited. We’re the one’s who are entirely innocent yet have to take it on the chin.

I’ve always maintained that by not voting for any of ‘em you escape responsibility for any of their transgressions. Pure as the driven slush, that’s moi. All we have to do is pay up and look as cheerful as we can under the circumstances.

Nobody’s asked me, but I’ve had a gutful of politics over the last few months.

The referendum nonsense north of the border, followed briskly by the party conferences and zillions of inquests and post mortems, has left me gasping for less. I dare not even contemplate next year’s general election.

Meanwhile, our true governors over that other border, about 3,000 miles across the Atlantic, are dredging support for scorching the earth in and around Syria by air. They have plenty of wonga to throw at the problem too.

According to the latest butcher’s bill, that first strike despatched around 75 Islamists and 50 or so El Quida ‘soldiers’.

The Yanks hit them with one hundred Cruise missiles at about a million quid a pop. Missions by strike aircraft are absolute bargains at about half that.

But Geronimo! boys, looks like a few weeks of assisting the allies will cost us enough to mend the NHS.

Meanwhile, we are all stupified with admiration at the efforts of our MP, David Morris, who apparently single-handedly is putting Morecambe back on the map. We can only wish him luck when he starts demolition of the Polo Tower without any assistance.

Obviously, he is the one politician who is above criticism. Please accept that, although it should go without saying. Anyone who produces his own newspaper deserves max respect, otherwise one might get a nasty monstering.

Pray also accept that rumours that I will be ghost-writing his biography are malicious and bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead. But I just might give him a generous epitaph if he falls off the PoloTower.

Here endeth the annual political column. Normal service will be resumed next week.