Show Hide image

Watch: Comedian Jo Brand endorses Labour in a party election broadcast

"I'm choosing Labour".

Jo Brand, the comedian who used to be an NHS nurse, has backed Labour in a party election broadcast. The central message is protecting and improving the NHS. 

The clip features a voiceover by Doctor Who and Broadchurch actor David Tennant, who also spoke in Martin Freeman's broadcast.

The full transcript is below:

 
JB:                  There’s an election coming up. You might know that and we all have our own personal axes to grind. Mine if what’s going to happen to the NHS, not because of my undeniable status as a national fitness icon, but because once upon a time I used to be a nurse. And by the way, I’m sick of the way nurses get slagged off all the time in the press. I mean, come on, the vast majority of them are hard-working, committed, amazing human beings. Because to my mind a decent civilised society looks after its people when they’re ill and doesn’t present them with a bill at the end of it. But what I’m seeing now is little by little the NHS being pulled apart. By whom you might ask? A clue; it’s not the Labour Party. They started the whole thing. If you’ve tried to get an appointment with your doctor or been to an A&E recently you’ll know things are in a right mess.
 
                        What’s that mess all about? For a start a tonne of money wasted on a reorganisation so big you could see it from space and so hard to understand you’d have to be Professor Stephen Hawking to get your head round it. I give you the Tory Party. Let’s be honest about it, if they get back in the NHS as we know it wouldn’t survive the next five years.
 
                        Why? Because they’re planning even more extreme cuts; we know that. They don’t want to talk about it but it’s not hard to guess. What it boils down to is this: do we want a government that will back our NHS or not? I want to see our NHS make it to its 100th birthday and get its telegram from the Queen. Because that’s what it is, by the way, the NHS; it’s ours. It belongs to us all. We paid for it with our taxes and we want to keep it safe in our hands, not theirs. And that’s why I’m choosing Labour. 
 
Voiceover:     This election is a choice between the Tories’ failing plan and Labour’s better plan for working families. Britain succeeds when working people succeed. Vote Labour on Thursday May 7th        
Getty
Show Hide image

Why do the words “soup, swoop, loop de loop” come to mind every time I lift a spoon to my lips?

It’s all thanks to Barry and Anita.

A while ago I was lending a friend the keys to our house. We keep spare keys in a ceramic pot I was given years ago by someone who made it while on an art-school pottery course. “That’s er . . . quite challenging,” the friend said of the pot.

“Is it?” I replied. “I’d stopped noticing how ugly it is.”

“Then it’s a grunty,” she said.

“A what?” I asked.

“A grunty. It’s something you have in your house that’s hideous and useless but you’ve stopped noticing it completely, so it’s effectively invisible.”

I was much taken with this idea and realised that as well as “grunties” there are also “gruntyisms”: things you say or do, though the reason why you say or do them has long since been forgotten. For example, every time we drink soup my wife and I say the same thing, uttered in a strange monotone: we say, “Soup, swoop, loop de loop.” How we came to say “soup, swoop, loop de loop” came about like this.

For a married couple, the years between your mid-thirties and your late forties might be seen as the decade of the bad dinner party. You’re no longer looking for a partner, so the hormonal urge to visit crowded bars has receded, but you are still full of energy so you don’t want to stay in at night, either. Instead, you go to dinner parties attended by other couples you don’t necessarily like that much.

One such couple were called Barry and Anita. Every time we ate at their house Barry would make soup, and when serving it he would invariably say, “There we are: soup, swoop, loop de loop.” After the dinner party, as soon as we were in the minicab going home, me and Linda would start drunkenly talking about what an arse Barry was, saying to each other, in a high-pitched, mocking imitation of his voice: “Please do have some more of this delicious soup, swoop, loop de loop.” Then we’d collapse against each other laughing, convincing the Algerian or Bengali taxi driver once again of the impenetrability and corruption of Western society.

Pretty soon whenever we had soup at home, Linda and I would say to each other, “Soup, swoop, loop de loop,” at first still ridiculing Barry, but eventually we forgot why we were saying it and it became part of the private language every couple develop, employed long after we’d gratefully ceased having soupy dinners with Barry and Anita.

In the early Nineties we had an exchange student staying with us for a year, a Maori girl from the Cook Islands in the southern Pacific. When she returned home she took the expression “soup, swoop, loop de loop” with her and spread it among her extended family, until finally the phrase appeared in an anthropological dissertation: “ ‘Soup swoop, loop de loop.’ Shamanistic Incantations in Rarotongan Food Preparation Rituals” – University of Topeka, 2001. 

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt