Pants on Fire? Or Just a Wisp of Smoke From the Trouser Pocket?

Politicians are expected to lie, or at least to be as disingenuous as they can be. As far as the media are concerned, the lie is only really interesting if it relates to something base and simple (sex, death, perjury) rather than something too big and complex (Europe, taxation, policy). And what they REALLY like is shiftiness, where the lie/story/explanation changes with each lunchtime or evening news.

This is where Cleggy has come undone. The fact that a monstrously obese and unpleasant man like Rennard should be trying to force himself on a few vapid LibDem wimmin was not in itself of great interest (do you remember it from 2008? Or from 2010 when a newspaper tried to reprise it? No, because it wasn’t taken up as a story by the rest of the media). But what Cleggy knew, when he knew it, what he did about it – this becomes a Westminster All The President’s Men. And, as in ATPM, the excitement of a cover up is just too good to be true. It is helped, splendidly, by the fact that all the LibDem top table hate each other. There will be a Deepthroat, for sure.

So, where are you on Clegg? Has he indulged in a bare faced lie? Should it matter? Should we respect the line between normal obfuscation/disingenuity/mis-speaking on the one hand, and clear dishonesty on the other? Given that these were all ghastly LibDems together, should it be treated as victimless?

These wretched incompetents must be held to account somehow. It would improve my week if Eastleigh turned Blue and Clegg turned white, with fear.