Obama/Cameron, Cameron/Obama?

This is an interesting view of the debates in the US:
http://blogs.ft.com/rachmanblog/

And in particular, this paragraph catches me - and says what has been troubling me about what I've seen and heard - of both Barak Obama and David Cameron...:

"All this leaves me baffled. I have watched Mr Obama speak live; I have watched him speak on television; I have even watched his speeches set to music on a video made by celebrity supporters… But I find myself strangely unmoved – and this is disconcerting. It feels like admitting to falling asleep during Winston Churchill’s “fight them on the beaches” speech."

I'm afraid that its the same with both of them for me - I just am not moved by anything they do. Cameron in particular makes a grand entrance look like sneaking in via the back door under cover of darkness, and last week's Northern Rock debates simply seem to have proved that the Tories are just as adept as ever at rescuing defeat from the jaws of victory. George Osborn, the great Tory hope, seemed to think he was on to a dead cert, and then watched all the criticisms they threw at Darling and Brown just fade away making them look foolish. Don't get me wrong, Labour certainly didn't come out smelling of roses, and didn’t deserve to either - only the Lib Dems managed that - thanks to Vince Cable showing the bigger boys how they should have dealt with the situation.

But Obama seems to be the living embodiment of the phrase "all mouth, no trouser" - spouting meaningless phrases that somehow catch the imagination and mood of the baying fans that have fallen under his spell. If anyone doubts this, please explain to me what the phrases "the audacity of hope" and "we are the change we've been waiting for" actually either mean or do for the mood of the US... As Mr Rachman points out in the article linked above, it would only genuinely be audacious to run for president for reasons of despair... And the second one, urgh, I don't know.

As for David Cameron, I appreciate that making fun of the government at every step, and shoving fingers into every hole in policy at the first opportunity seems to be working at the moment. But you may have many, many more months to wait for an election, and we've seen before that this behaviour wears thin very easily with the public - and support follows rapidly.

I don't actually want Mr Cameron to win an election - I'd far rather see Titus Bramble in the next England football squad - but if he's serious about being a challenge to Labour, he needs to realise pretty quickly that being able to walk and talk without notes, and being able to come up with a few priceless playground insults will not be the deciding factor in an election.

And if last week was anything to go by, maybe they ought to check that the gift horse standing in front of them doesn't have a "Made In Troy" stamp somewhere on it…

God bless you, Mr President

During 1999 and the first half of 2000, I reckon I spent, on average, about 15-20 hours a week in a cinema, usually in the company of Jon Monkhouse. We'd roll up to the cinema at roughly 11 or 12 (an achievement for a pair of students...) clutching our unlimited passes and then spend the rest of the day watching films, routinely seeing three or four a day. And we saw some brilliant films in that time. We also saw some stunningly awful films (Down To You – I can picture Jon’s expression just at the mention of the title - and Frequency to name just two). When Nikki and I started working in London (in 2004), we took out unlimited passes again. This time, it was just for 1 or 2 films a week, but we picked our films, and saw some really good ones, with the occasional disappointment. Obviously, since Luke’s birth, our movie-going habits have been somewhat… restricted. I have no complaints – as I would far rather see Luke’s little face every day than any film, and I have yet to hear of a film to change my mind (no, not even Batman Begins changed my mind…), so I happily recline in my ignorance.

I am, along with any other potential signs of geekdom, completely unable to commit to being a film fan. And yet, that is what I am. But I don’t much care at the moment. I love films, I really do. But I have finally (and very, very belatedly) discovered The West Wing



Can TV get any better than this show? I’ve never seen something that had me hooked within minutes, caring about the characters enough to want to know more by the end of episode 1 and when I saw the season climax I was beside myself!

I suppose it does help that I have an interest in US politics, and that I like this kind of drama – something that is simultaneously unafraid to address proper, heavyweight issues (the first episode has a potential scandal with a White House staffer and a call girl, and within a few episodes a drug scandal breaks) use humour, and make sure we all understand that these are normal, everyday people going through something extreme every day.

It probably also helps that I’d love to do the job. I’d love to be one of the actors, obviously, but there’s a part of me that aspires to be that essential to the running of the country, and be under that kind of pressure. But its not my priority to get there – there are far, far more important than work, or a career (just as well, the way mine has stalled).

But as far as I am aware, The West Wing isn’t repeated on terrestrial TV… Channel 4, who originally broadcast the series, constantly and tediously repeat Friends and ER (and magnificently, Frasier) during the day, so why not this? The only way I have seen what I’ve seen is through begging and borrowing other people’s copies – downloading, in case you’re wondering, takes far far far too long on my humble little creaky laptop (donations gratefully received). I’d love it if Channel 4 starts repeating it other than on a digital channel that not everyone can receive… And if they’d start showing the Daily Show on the regular channel – shunting it to More4 is a waste and an insult – its better than anything we have on tv at the moment over here in terms of satire.

Opening A Vein

There was a time, years ago now, when I wanted - more than anything - to be an actor. I loved, and I still do love, the feeling of being on stage, of showing all those people gathered in front of you that you could be someone else, that you could make them laugh, appall them, shock, frighten, warm, comfort, sadden them, with just an action or a phrase.

There's a very good saying that Phil Hammond used on last Friday's News Quiz on BBC Radio 4: "Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing not to put tomatoes in a fruit salad."

I don't know whether I was ever any good as an actor - I was certainly told that I was quite a few times, but confidence is a huge part of doing it. My confidence was always battered by a memory that is fast-attaining legendary status for its faliures. After all, it's all very well being able to recite Stanislavski's acting system, but being able to do it is far more valuable than knowing it.

But there was a moment - one of those moments that you know will affect how the rest of your life will go. It happened at school. I was in the sixth form (year 13 for those of you who are too young to remember proper school years...), and I was rehearsing for my A-Level drama practical exam. I'd chosen one of my favourite speeches from Shakespeare for my monologue piece - its in Much Ado About Nothing (my favourite Shakespeare...), when Benedick first believes that Beatrice loves him - in the Branagh film, it's the bit when he's wandering around the garden with a deckchair...

I knew the speech inside and out, I'd researched into it, I'd concentrated and worked on every inflection of every syllable, and worked out timings. I'd even begun blocking the scene. Then my teacher asked me what I was doing again. I told her. She stared at me as if I'd just accused her of eating students during detentions (she was, after all, big enough for that to be believable).
Her words have stayed with me ever since:

"You'll have to change it. You can't do Benedick - you don't look like a romantic hero."

Well, to me, that's the point of acting. If I was any good at all, it wouldn't matter one little bloody jot if I didn't look like a romantic-sodding-hero. If I didn't look like one, I could act like one and speak like one. I could BE one. But instead, I had to do the only soliloquy anyone ever remembers from Richard III. And I hated it. I like the play, and I thoroughly recommend the film version with Ian McKellen as Richard III, but I hated doing it. If there's one thing I was probably less suited to be than a romantic hero, I'd have guessed at murderous hunchback king... Still, I suppose I was lucky she didn't get me to be Othello...

It was that moment, when she said that preposterous, insulting sentence, that I decided that it wasn't for me. I was going to follow something I'd been doing for just a few months - writing. I wanted, instead of being on the stage speaking someone else's words - I wanted to be the person who'd put those words in the actor's mouths.

All Mysteries Solved...

Huge kudos must go to the artist, Mike. Have a look at his work: http://seemikedraw.wordpress.com/

Go on, you know you want to!

RIP Heath Ledger - and why I hate the British public

I'm shocked that Heath Ledger's dead.

OK, there are many many more things in life to be more bothered about for me, and sure - he wasn't the greatest actor the world has ever seen... But he wasn't a bad one, and he was certainly someone I enjoyed watching in films.

I recently saw "Two Hands" - one of the films that pushed him into Hollywood stardom. It's an Australian mobster film about a guy who gets the chance to do a little job for a local gangster (take $10,000 across town to someone). It goes wrong and the money is stolen. The rest of the film is about how he tries to get the money back to save his life, while evading the gangsters and getting the girl. There's a good sub-plot about the theives who got the original money, a moment during a bank job scene that made me snort with laughter and have to wipe drink off my computer screen, and an unexpected ending. Oh, and its got Rose Byrne as the lead female character (she can currently be seen in Damages on BBC1).

I was excited that he was playing the joker in the new Batman film, The Dark Knight - being a Batman fan, I was always going to be excited about the film, but there's something about the choice of Heath Ledger that seemed right - he was unexpected, possibly an inspired choice for it.

What makes me more sad is not just that I'd only just started to like him as an actor and really appreciate his work, but the kinds of comments that are being left on all the message boards I've seen in response to his death make me feel sick. The BBC's infamous "Have Your Say" one is awful, and makes me really ashamed to be from this country. There are, obviously, some people who go over the top with their messages about missing him, and not quite believing that they'll never see him in a film again. Other than that, it's full of cynical or jealous people, complaining about the fuss being made over someone who is, after all, “only an actor”. There are people suggesting that the fact that the majority of people commenting are women proves that he will be more missed for his looks than his talent (Oh, come on, we're not talking about Keanu Reeves, for god's sake, Ledger could act), that his death was a selfish act because it *could* have been suicide (nothing is sure yet)... But then there's this jewel of unmistakable wisdom:

"Like many others I had never heard of him and thought him to be Keith Ledger rather than Heath. So he played a gay cowboy in a recent film and was a passable actor. Now he is dead and some people will miss him. Quite why he has generated so much interest in death is something of a mystery."

Well why bother commenting on this then? If you know nothing about them, why even chance your arm by saying something so ignorant that it looks intentionally offensive?

But whether you think this is all pathetic or not, films, actors, novels, writers, characters, stories, plays, theatres, cinemas... they all mean an awful lot to a lot of people. Some of these things have mattered to people for centuries. They're escapism, fantasy, ambitions, comforts. All things to all men.

Heath Ledger was a good actor. He was also a rare thing these days - an film star who didn't particularly like all the limelight and the pressures of fame, and managed to keep himself out of the news for being drunk and punching photographers, or swearing at autograph hunters, or drink-driving. Or throwing phones at hotel staff.

People who dismiss the grief of fans are every bit as pathetic as they think the fans are. If not more. You try losing something that's comforted you while you're upset, made you laugh when you wanted to cry or made you believe in love again. I'm sure you'd greive too.

Until you get some compassion, you're all twats. With big mouths.

Superbad... Super bad?

I haven’t seen Superbad. I’ve heard a bit about it, and I want to have a look, but I’ve heard more bad comments than good, so I’m reluctant to spend any money to see it…

Two things more than anything worry me.

1, Total Film gave it 4/5 stars.

2, Adverts for the DVD release say that Empire magazine described it as the “funniest teen movie since American Pie”.

First reaction is, good Lord, is it really as lazy a comedy as American Pie? Don’t get me wrong, AP made me laugh throughout, but it did it by playing to the cheapest laughs they could find. That they spun that out for more movies neither surprised, shocked, or even interested me. It certainly caught something of the mood of the time, but let’s get this straight, it’s no Airplane or Blazing Saddles, is it? It broke no new ground, and said nothing new about anything. Except the sexual side of apple pies (How many chavs were admitted to hospital for burns treatment after trying to reproduce that scene with an apple pie from MacDonalds… I think we should all be told).

I know some of my friends are a lot better up on movies than me – so I’m appealing for some help! Is Superbad worth a watch? Or is it worth avoiding at all costs?

All opinions welcome!

Fa-La-La-La-La (What do you mean I'm a bit late for that?!)

Happy New Year, everyone... Welcome to my 2008...

Over the festive season, I’ve had a few chances to reacquaint myself with a few things I had forgotten.

Firstly, how lovely it is to experience Christmas with Nikki and Luke – truly the most amazing two people I have ever met, and wonderfully, the two people can share my life with. I had some lovely gifts, and couldn’t care less how much or little anyone spent, or how many gifts I received – the best bits for me is always seeing other people get presents.

Secondly, I FINALLY saw The History Boys by Alan Bennett thanks to BBC 2… And my love of Alan Bennett’s writing was completely re-awakened. I’ve re-read the script to The History Boys twice since seeing the film, and savoured so much that its made me want to turn back and try acting again… as well as begin to write again. Amazing what 90 minutes of sort-of sitting still can do to you. There were moments that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, just like the first time I saw A Chip In The Sugar from the original Talking Heads series way back when I was 14 or 15, or when I first put on a tape of Beyond The Fringe. I’m so glad he’s still writing and making an impact – the world will be a far, far poorer place when he stops writing. No one has the same acute sense of detail, gentle or sensitive touch with tragedy or the same unassuming humour as him. I’ve always felt an affinity, a closeness to his words that I cannot and don’t really want to explain.

The reason I’ve always loved his writing – and why I love reading in general - is gloriously summed up by this line, spoken by Hector in The History Boys:


"The best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - which you had thought special and particular to you. And now, here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out, and taken yours."

Thirdly, the songwriting of Steve Earle. I love some country music – essentially people who try and do something interesting or different within the genre (the same could be true for any of my tastes in music). But his, I admit, isn’t particularly ground-breaking or new. It is, however, distinctive. There’s not many people who can write songs that assess the state of the nation as accurately and pointedly as he did in Amerika v.6.0 – which incidentally is on the same album, Jerusalem, which gained him as much notoriety as acclaim in the US and led to his behaviour being monitored by the security services over there because of the song John Walker’s Blues which tells the story of a young American who joins the jihad against the West - I’ll put the lyrics below, but the song rocks as well as makes your brain tick, so I highly recommend checking it out for yourself. The whole album is wonderful (if you can take alt.country).

Amerika v. 6.0 (The Best We Can Do)
(Steve Earle)

Look at ya
Yeah, take a look in the mirror
now tell me what you see
Another satisfied customer in the front of the line for the American dream
I remember when we was both out on the boulevard
Talkin' revolution and singin' the blues
Nowadays it's letters to the editor and cheatin' on our taxes
Is the best that we can do
Come on

Look around
There's doctors down on Wall Street
Sharpenin' their scalpels and tryin' to cut a deal
Meanwhile, back at the hospital
We got accountants playin' God and countin' out the pills
Yeah, I know, that sucks – that your HMO
Ain't doin' what you thought it would do
But everybody's gotta die sometime and we can't save everybody
It's the best that we can do

Four score and a hundred and fifty years ago
Our forefathers made us equal as long as we can pay
Yeah, well maybe that wasn't exactly what they was thinkin'
Version six-point-oh of the American way
But hey we can just build a great wall around the country club
To keep the riff-raff out until the slump is through
Yeah, I realize that ain't exactly democratic, but it's either them or us
And it's the best we can do

Yeah, passionely conservative
It's the best we can do

Conservatively passionate
It's the best we can do

Meanwhile, still thinkin'
Hey, let's wage a war on drugs
It's the best we can do
Well, I don't know about you, but I kinda dig this global warming thing...

Funda-Mentalists strike again...

I had an email a couple of weeks ago, forwarded by a friend, who shall remain nameless, about the new film adaptation, The Golden Compass (the movie version of Philip Pullman's excellent "Northern Lights" - book 1 of the His Dark Materials trilogy).

This email went on to explain how damaging for children this movie is.

The sole basis for this claim? That its author has previously admitted that there are atheist themes and aspects in the novels - and that the theme of battling against organised (or in this case, regimented and forced) religion intentionally represents the Catholic Church. Apparently, this is enough to believe that this film will turn kids away from God, should they be dragged to the cinema to see it.

I am, again, appalled by this attitude - displayed by Christians. It is a load of puffed-up, self-satisfied, unfair, unbalanced propaganda drivel, and I am just as shocked that people, especially Christians, are buying into it. I've talked about this before... see here and here.

I am in no doubt that films and TV programmes can and do influence the opinion and behaviour of children. I am also a Christian who has read the 'Dark Materials' trilogy.

Forgive me, but as I was reading the books as FICTION, I took everything in them just as such. But its not just fiction. It is a FANTASY world, with FANTASY and FICTIONAL people, animals, customs, lives and places. And it has to be said that it's a very good fantasy fiction trilogy. Plus, this is a Hollywood movie - any actual themes or moral intentions will have been thoroughly diluted along the way.

I disagree completely with the author's views on religion. But that doesn't mean I should ignore everything he does. I disagree with our troops being in Iraq, but that doesn't mean I don't respect them for being there and doing a job that I certainly wouldn't be keen on doing.

I don't remember reading any criticisms of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe as being "too Christian" when the film came out a couple of years ago. So why should Christians, who are meant to believe in and practice tolerance, be allowed to level that at a film that mentions the possibility that there might not be a God?

No matter how much I disagree, or I think there is a God, I would not dream of stopping someone else holding a contrary view. This essentially boils down to the argument over whether Harry Potter is "anti-God" because some people think it teaches kids that dark magic is real... I loved Harry Potter too. Why? Because it was a hugely enjoyable FANTASY FICTION... (spot the pattern?)

Just as Harry Potter was not about teaching kids about dark arts, Dark Materials is not about teaching kids to be atheists. They are, purely and simply, about good and evil. They just have different approaches into it.

My last thoughts are a couple of questions:

1) why do people who haven't seen films/plays or read the books feel that they can criticise them like this?

I have the same issue with some of the people who objected to Jerry Springer: The Opera and Paul by Howard Brenton.

2) why do other Christians believe this sort of unfair propoganda?

Some atheists do tend to go over the top with their criticisms of religion, but that doesn't give us the right to use the same tactic. I think the quote is "turn the other cheek"...

Get over yourselves and allow yourself to relax and your imagination to do some work for once. These are stories designed to entertain, not change people's beliefs. And people wonder why churches are losing people when we have this kind of attitude being shouted around?

How I learned to shut up and just accept that I am who I am.

I feel like I’ve been away for a while. (from looking at the last time I wrote on here... I have - sorry!)

Since Luke was born, I’ve been on a strange and winding path. At times I have acted and reacted in ways that I never thought would be part of my make-up and that I am thoroughly ashamed of. I hate the fact that I started running away from addressing problems that needed to be sorted, and that some of the obstacles we face now are completely my fault for being a spineless idiot a year ago and not waking up quickly enough.

But, I feel like I’ve turned a corner. I’m not going to forget the shame I feel, because that’s an important lesson that I need to remember, but I’m trying to move on, I’m trying to make things right.

And that started because I began reading again.

Not just any reading, either. Sure, I read all the time, and I read a wide array of books – my favourite writers are people like Bill Bryson, Michael Palin, Roger McGough, Adrian Plass, Alan Bennett, Terry Pratchett (there are SO many more that I’ll stop. If you want to know, email me)…

It was an old Adrian Plass book that turned my thoughts to sorting things out. I found my copy of the original “Sacred Diary of Adrian Plass aged 37 and ¾” while clearing some things out from mum and dad’s house. It is a book that brings back warm memories (not least because I was given it one Christmas and I devoured it over the next couple of nights – wrapping myself up in a duvet to protect myself from the cold), and it’s now something of a comfort.

Adrian’s character is a bumbling idiot, essentially. I loved his son, Gerald, in these books – he’s a great outlet for the caustic and cheeky humour that runs through the diaries, and more importantly, the character that I wanted to resemble when people met me. I think I knew what I am about to say when I originally read it, but convinced myself of being an heir to Gerald’s throne to ignore this:

I am Adrian. Completely, utterly, without exception, I am the bumbling but well-meaning fool that loves his family and loves his church, and loves his life, and tries hard while leaving catastrophe in his wake.

But my behaviour was not like that. I wasn’t being well-meaning but showing my family just how much I love them with every turn. I was finding it very hard to shake off old habits and in many ways, behave like an adult. So I began to do something about it.

The main thing I had been missing, I think, was faith. My winding path had been winding ever-further away from church. I don’t necessarily mind that. I had always been told that you cannot be a proper Christian without having any contact with a church. At university, I felt like I was bucking that trend. I was trundling along a churchless, but not Godless, path.

My faith is very important to me. It shaped and still shapes the person I am, and even at university, when I did let myself get out there and just have fun, I still limited myself, I still stopped short of the things that I am either opposed to or frightened of (or both). I didn’t go to church during those three years, except when I was at home – although my connection to God had sort of evolved from that.

Suddenly, it wasn’t about going to a thronging building, singing hymns just as quietly as the person next to you so you weren’t noticed if you sang the first line of the wrong tune. It wasn’t about healing services and parade Sundays.

Suddenly, it was just about me and God. There was no one else – no back row to slouch in, no loud organ to drown out my singing. It was just me and Him.

It was strange to begin with. I’d never really got that far into spiritual thought before. I was a pretty naïve young man, I think. I believed I was a Christian far before I realised what it meant to be one and that now you came to mention it, yes, I think I do want to follow…

There’s a lot of things I don’t like about church. I can’t stand prayers (particularly intercessionary prayers – a favourite of the URC - I fall asleep in them), healing prayers and services make me incredibly nervous and suspicious, and I don’t get along with the octave that every hymn seems to start in. That’s just three. A fourth would be that I dislike the tendency to cling on to a building as the church, instead of the people. A fifth would be that I really dislike the herd mentality that any large group tends to develop.

I have always disliked stopping worship for an offertory. It’s so public and it puts money (or “gifts”) at the centre of the worship time.

I get annoyed with the amount of unnecessary things that “need” to be in each service.
I remember that when we did an youth group evening service in advent one year (in a church where prayers of intercession were an average of about 10mins long), my prayer of intercession was three lines long. And I didn’t get any complaints – far from it, I got people thanking me.

Healing prayers provoke an unfortunate feeling of deep scepticism, and a lot of others irritate me for the tendency to dwell on our shortcomings as people. Yes, we sin, we make mistakes – but to me confession is personal. Let’s try and be thankful.

That’s one of the things I like about going to church - a lot of my prayers can be about more private things, wrong actions or thoughts, not doing something I know that I should have done. That sort of thing. But church has always been somewhere I can go to praise.

And then I found a second-hand copy of Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. I’d heard of Donald Miller. I’d heard that this book has had a deep effect on a lot of people. My curiosity got the better of me, while that charity shop got £1.50 out of me.

For a long time, I never got past the introductory passage. I kept flicking the book open, reading it, and then getting rather lost in thought. I’m slowly dipping in and working through, because, yes, this is powerful stuff to me, but it’s throwing up so many images and thought strands that I feel I need to follow, to investigate. So I’m going to share this one passage with everyone who’s not read the book. This passage has triggered more in me than anything over the course of the last two years (with the exception of Nikki and Luke), and I don’t think I’ve been quite as affected by something since I first read through Much Ado About Nothing or read The Thirty Nine Steps when I was little.

“I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn’t resolve.

But I was outside the Baghdad Theatre one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes and he never opened his eyes.

After that I liked jazz music.

Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it
yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way.

I used to not like God because God didn’t resolve.

But that was before any of this happened.”

(Donald Miller – Blue Like Jazz)

I’m still new at being a dad. OK, so it has been two years, but I am only just showing what I am good at. A lot of that comes from working full time. But taking Miller’s passage, even on the most basic levels, strikes more chords than a busy piano tuner. For whatever reason, I needed someone to show me the way.

I think I will be a new dad for a while yet. I’ll probably just about have it mastered just in time to celebrate Luke turning 18.

I don’t think I will ever stop being a learner Christian. I am not perfect – far from it. But I do know my limits, I have remembered and fixed on to my priorities, and I do kind of know where I am headed.

But I will always need that helping hand. So I’m happy to stay a beginner, thank you.

Will the real David Cameron please shut up, please shut up, please shut up...

I've always been suspicious of David Cameron. I am now officially sick of him.

One gimmicky, vomit-inducing speech and everyone thinks the sun shines from an impossible place.

And then there’s the incessant whingeing about Gordon Brown's non-election... So he didn't call an election. Oh dear - I didn't get the boat I wanted for Christmas when I was ten, and I didn't score a hundred last time I played cricket. I didn't go crying to a conveniently placed TV camera and make myself look like a whiny idiot in the best traditions of the Conservative playground ("It's not fair, mummy - the big boy took my policy on inheritance tax!")

It's up to the PM (right or wrong) to choose the date of the election. Personally, I support the Lib Dems in their bid to get the parliamentary term fixed (and therefore the date of every election fixed) so PMs can't call elections to suit their party's own interests, but as it stands, it is Gordon Brown's right to choose when to hold the election. He never said he was going to - everyone else interpreted it the way they wanted to and (in the case of some newspapers - as well as Mr Cameron) practically wet themselves with anticipation.

Never has the chance to lose something been so exciting to so many people. Well, not since the 80s, when Neil Kinnock was supposedly the nation's great hope...

And the speech...
"Two years ago I stood on this stage and I gave a speech, a short speech, about why I wanted to lead our Party. Today I want to make a speech about why I want to lead our Country.
I am afraid it is going to be a bit longer and I haven't got an autocue and I haven't got a script, I've just got a few notes so it might be a bit messy; but it will be me."

As Francis Wheen said on last Friday's news quiz, "Go to any school play and you see people speaking without an autocue. It's not that difficult, you just learn your lines..."

Fill an hour with electorate-pleasing promises that they'd no more fulfill than the Labour government would, some self-deprecating charm and the "viruoso" ability to walk AND talk at the same time (bravo) and you're no more impressive than Jim Davidson...

And I can't stand Jim Davidson.

Just because you can remember your lines, it doesn't mean you're fit to run a country. And its certainly not enough to win my vote.