Sion Simon - journalist, socialist, onanist, rapper, MINISTER of the CROWN. Jeesus! This is a man of no discernable talent whatsoever. Frank Field languishes on the backbenches whilst this hopeless fool draws a ministerial salary and a Ford Mondeo plus driver. He is a barrel-scraping, a typical fin-de-siecle government appointment; the political equivalent of being the last boy picked for a game of playground football. A howling embarrassment, and no mistake.His performance on the Today programme this morning, being lightly grilled by Humphrys over a cock-up that has resulted in many higher education establishments becoming insolvent, was a career-ending ten minutes, surely. When I listen to Labour ministers prevaricating and obfuscating, I expect them to do better than this. (Between 0810 and 0820, when they put it onto playback). [Update - Dale has the link and the transcript]
Of course, this is not a one-horse race. There are one or two names that immediately come to mind, one of whom held much more responsibility than little Sion, therefore her shit-to-bucks ratio was considerably higher. No prize for the first person to name her. Actually, I can think of two wimmin who answer to such a description. Small prize to the first one to name them together.
It is natural to concentrate on the last 12 years of Labour government, but we should not ignore the claims of some members of the Major government, which at times threatened to equal Ted Heath's years as the worst Tory government of the C20th. Stand up, David Mellor! Take a bow, John Gummer!
11 comments:
I despair of the political class as a whole. What has become of this country almost makes me want to weep. The situation now really reminds me of the 70s. As a schoolkid the power cuts seemed a bit exciting. And the empty motorways felt surreal like a sci-fi movie. As a mature adult one of course has a different take on things. And now well over thirty years later I almost feel a sense of disgust at the politcal and new establishment classes who managed to make such a mess of things. It was as clear as the nose on the end of one's face that this debt fuelled boom was going to cost us all (including the prudent) dear. The only surprise is it took so long.
PS
Enjoy your break as and when. I enjoyed checking out the website you recommnded.
I heard him. Desperate. Utterly risible. He sounded totally ignorant of the matter in hand and about as well-informed about the world as one of my cats ( the stupid one!).
No wonder the country is going to the dogs. It is heartbtreaking.
Remember, idle, that these berks are chosen specifically to make you know who look ultra brilliant.
As a guess for your compo - Jowell and Smith?
Kelly and Morris?
They still haven't uploaded the Today programme, but they do link to Burning our Money, under what is being said on the web...:-)
The Nomad has one of the names, lil has neither that I was thinking of. But you've reminded me of Estelle Morris, lil, who I'd forgotten. She was ghastly, it's true, but she very slightly redeemed herself by resigning, saying she wasn't up to the job. I believe she is now Baroness Morris of Dancer, or somesuch.
It is 75C in the sun here, and we are off to walk dogs, and forget about Estelle again.
Thank heavens Burning Our Money posted after me, lil. Great minds think alike.
It all started when they christened him!
Wasn't it Sir Humphrey who said there was no real choice for selecting a minister: of the MPs in a party 1/3 were too young and callow, 1/3 too old and silly, leaving exactly enough to guarantee the rest employment. In this instance, it would appear that there was a shortage in the useful, middle third and one from the first, short trousered third has to be included.
Fin de siecle indeed. I almost felt sorry for this turd. He was so far out of his depth. Then I remembered how much the scoundrel is stealing from the public purse. He reminded me of Porky Pig Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-That's all folks! Probably quite appropriate given the troughing that goes on at Westminster these days.
'Shit to bucks ratio' set me thinking, something I find myself less and less capable of as age and alcohol take hold, and I think you were referring to Mo Mowlam, whose wildly overspun 'achievements' were presented as a shit to bucks miracle at the time.
Jackboot Jacqui must be the other.
Batty Hattie is not as significant as she would clearly wish to be.
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