And The Winner Is…?


Oh how we Brits laughed when the people of the US couldn't seem to decide who was going to be their next president! With their hanging chads, threats of legal action, and people standing in queues for four hours to vote - how could all this happen in a modern, technologically advanced, democratic society? And then we decided to have an election here in Britain...

For a while it seemed like it would be weeks before we found out who actually won, depending on who could be best friends with somebody else. Or until they figured out how many postal votes were rigged. Or what they were going to do about all the thousands of people who couldn't vote because there weren't enough staff in the polling stations. And, yes, it looks like we can still expect some legal action as well. I suppose the only consoling factor is that the whole process only lasted three months rather than a year and a half like it does in the US.

But there is one major advantage - at least for a few weeks while they sort it all out we will be safe from the onslaught of stupid new laws. I suppose it's also one way of saving money and reducing our debt burden. Maybe we'll discover that we can get along a lot better without actually having a Government at all.

And, best of all, it turns out that the leader of the party that experienced the second largest fall in its support is the one who decided who will govern us for the next five years - or until they all fall out with each other and stop being best friends so we can have another go at voting.

I remember, as a kid, reading a Ray Bradbury story about how - in the distant future - elections will be decided by a single person casting one vote. The argument goes that, by then, the whole population will be so closely monitored, analysed, and documented in minute detail on a myriad huge databases that a computer will be able to select the one person who's views exactly mirror the majority of the population. They will be able to just get that chosen person to make the decision. And it seems that, this year, that person is Nick Clegg.

It's lucky they didn't use the same database as one of the major junk mail companies here in England. They manage to include two misspellings in my name, and three mistakes in my address. Though that doesn't seem to stop the post lady from shoving the constant stream of useless advertising through my letter box. But it would have been interesting to see the outcome when some poor guy called Dirk Clark in Cleckheaton answered the phone, and the Queen asked him who he wanted to be prime minister this time.

Mind you, I liked the comment in a letter to the newspaper that said "I just heard that we can anticipate a hung parliament. While I can understand that this is what they deserve after the expenses scandal, surely a good smacking would be a better punishment. Hanging seems a rather extreme option..."

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