Friday, 18 May 2018

Oh Chauncey's A Box Office Flop



You may recall that last year Chauncey was serenaded by the crowds at Glastonbury to the tune of a White Stripes song. We were in peak Chauncey territory then. The dopey old fool honestly believed that he would be PM by Christmas and that he was on the cusp of a glorious socialist awakening.

Clearly all of that hero worship that the feckless few indulged in for a few months until reality dawned went to Chauncey's head. So much so that Labour decided to try and get down with the youth again and give them the opportunity to sing to him this summer too.

There is no Glastonbury this year. It's in its fallow year to give the land and the neighbours a rest. But Chauncey wanted to give people the opportunity to adore him again. And so a Labour festival was dreamt up called London Live to be held at the White Hart Lane recreation ground. There you can go along to see the silly old sod and his friends and hangers on like Little Owen Jones - who will give a speech and then block you on Twitter if you say anything disobliging about it. There are more people in that club, including this blogger, than there are attendees at London Live.

Because, it pains me to say, Chauncey is so past his peak that Labour are struggling to sell tickets for the event and it is fast approaching. 20,000 tickets are for sale and thus far they've only sold 1800. And this despite there being the opportunity to listen to John McDonnell, Kate Osamor, the aforementioned Little Owen and Rachel Shabi. There's some music on offer too, although not by anyone you will have actually heard of.

Labour describe this as a fun filled day out for all of the family with music, art and politics. To be fair this really is what Chauncey and co think of as fun, or at least it would be if there was more talk of manhole covers and allotments. Maybe the people of London need sending for re-education.

What with the election results this month and recent opinion polls Labour are not so much as live as on the cusp of needing resuscitation. Oh Jeremy Corbyn indeed. They will likely be singing that to a rather more lachrymose tune this June.

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