Tuesday, 20 September 2016

Chauncey Takes the Biscuit

Do you remember Rowan Williams? He used to be the Archbishop of Canterbury. Now I am by no means a violent man, quite the opposite in fact, but had I been unfortunate to have to interview Williams and listen to that whispery, patronising voice speaking dull, facile platitudes and had I been handed a baseball bat at this inopportune (or opportune, dependent upon your point of view) moment, there is a good chance I would have, not so much beat him about the head with it, as inserted it into him rectally.

The arch bish was fantastically irritating. Even for a vicar. Listening to him answering the standard question about why God allows evil in the world was wont to make the ears and eyes bleed, not through some kind of sudden onset brain injury brought on by that amount of concentrated fatuous imbecility, but because the listener or viewer would prefer to render themselves deaf and blind by means of a hat pin than listen to the sanctimonious tit any longer.

God has this effect on true believers of course. It's not really their fault. No, actually it is. It is their fault. They don't have to believe this crap. Unless you believe in nurture trumping nature of course. There's probably a kind of poetic justice about that when you think about it.

But this does bring to mind the current and likely future leader of the Labour Party. Chauncey is probably cheering up god botherers a lot. Ha! they are saying. You see? It's not just us. Atheists can be just as stupid, purblind and twattish.

In case you missed it Chauncey went on to Mumsnet yesterday. This is a kind of rite of passage for political leaders these days for reasons that nobody can adequately explain. It's a website apparently and it has clout because Mums not only like Iceland they like sharing tips about things with one another and asking questions of politicians. Politicians have to pretend to care and to be interested in their points of view. It serves them right. I bet sometimes the chauffeur driven cars seem like the very least they deserve.

Anyway, as part of the process of appearing on Mumsnet, one is generally asked the biscuit question. This, for the uninitiated, is when our great thinkers and prognosticators are asked what their favourite biscuit is. This is why I could never be a politician. I would tend to be indecisive on this point, although in my defence I am fond of biscuits and have a wide range of favourites: from the humble digestive to the fig roll, from the chocolate hob nob to the bourbon.

Generally speaking our leaders, knowing that this question will come up, have an answer prepared for this in the same way that they have an answer prepared for their attitude to austerity, grammar schools or Scottish independence. It is best to have something not too fancy and utilitarian as a favourite biscuit. You can't go far wrong with a hob nob, although the dunking question may arise to try and flummox you. For the record if you are a dunker then you are someone who is clearly a sociopath and should be drummed out of office.

We knew that Wallace would never become prime minister, not after the infamous bacon sandwich incident, but when he answered the biscuit question by claiming he favours jaffa cakes. Jaffa cakes? They're not even biscuits. There was a famous court case. How can anyone possibly aspire to be the leader of our country if they claim to like jaffa cakes?

But what was Chauncey's response? It was something that Rowan Williams would have been proud of and which would, if there were any justice in the world, have necessitated an urgent trip to A&E to have a baseball bat removed from his innards. Chauncey offered that he was totally opposed to sugar on health grounds, so eats very few biscuits.


The sanctimony of the man makes you punch the air in delight doesn't it if only because the man himself is not in proximity. It so beautifully sums him up.  It is so him. It typifies him in the way that even his dirty brown jacket would struggle to do. You can hear him saying it in that faux sincere way of his, you can hear him breathing slightly heavily as he shakes his head sadly at the terrible iniquities meted out on the poor and the dispossessed by Tories and big sugar giving people biscuits. Truly they are the opiate of the people. Or the biscuits. It's the same really.

Chauncey and his new puritans have already informed us that they mean to ban us all getting together for early evening socialisation after work and now we will probably be banned from having a biscuit during a tea break while we're still at work too. In his brave new world that the legions of Momentum are planning on delivering to us all whether we like it or not, biscuits will be frowned upon and indeed biscuit eaters will have bricks thrown through their windows.

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