Not just a donis but the donis
The cat is in the bag and the bag, like a Poohstick dangled over the edge of the Bridge of Sighs, is a mere moment from being in the river. Nothing has changed, yet everything is different. The strange autumn of 2008, when people clutched at the straw that Gordon Brown, of all people, might save the world, has passed. Reality has returned and the party, and coincidentally myself, are both in fine fettle.
To take the party first. The polls do not lie. Labour is finished. Alan Duncan, who has taken to singing, "Flash - a-ah - saviour of the universe/Flash - a-ah - he'll save every one of us/Ha ha ha" as he walks down the Palace of Westminster's corridors, has reported back that not only are Labour MPs getting the joke, they are laughing at it.
Our masterstroke was to utilise the
BBC’s anxiety to our advantage
We, meanwhile, have shown our serious side by bringing Kenneth Clarke back into play. During the campaign if they bring Brown on to bowl we will send in David, if they bring on Mandy we will counter with Kenneth and if, and only if, they hand the ball to Darling will we need to call upon young George. At a stroke, we have neutralised their strongest man while marginalising our weakest link. I would call it genius, if it were other men's work.
Osborne still has a role to play. It was he, for instance, who was instrumental in bringing David Freud on board (every party needs a Freud!). And it is he who has received the ear-bending task of sounding out Lord Adonis, or as Chipper Alan Duncan calls him, "Lord not just a donis, but the donis". Little wonder the shadow chancellor has been looking somewhat wall-eyed.
Your columnist, after a confab with a very grateful DC at the Black and White ball, will, in contrast, be operating at the more populist end of the market. Let me elucidate. For some time we have been batting ideas around as to how to get the message across that, to use a phrase of Coulson's, "the celebrities are onside", without resorting to cringeworthy Kenny Everett-style stunts. Surprisingly, it was the BBC that provided us with the opportunity. So prim have they become as employers that high-profile employees are anxious to cock a snook at them just to prove they are still edgy.
It was our masterstroke to realise that we could utilise this anxiety to our advantage. Our first attempt (Operation Thatcher) to a certain extent backfired, in that she "went off-script" with potentially damaging consequences for her own career. However, the level of support she nevertheless received demonstrated our plan had merit.
Next step, Operation Clarkson. I have never read the man but his collected journalism sells over a million copies - considerably in excess, one would imagine, of the journalism of, say, George Orwell - and so he qualifies as, ghastly phrase, "an opinion former". Despite this, Jeremy proved to be charming, if blunt, on the phone, and gratifyingly quick to get to the gist. Within hours of our conversation he was laying into Brown with a lambasting of such strength that the BBC had no option but to run a story on the BBC website stating he should apologise to the BBC. So far, so Pravda.
This was our exact intention. The "story" was now a story and Clarkson's insults were reported far and wide. And then regurgitated once again as he coughed up a two-thirds apology. It being exquisite, to me at least, that Clarkson should apologise for the two insults that were demonstrably true while not having to retract the one comment that was arguably false. But who gives a fig for logical consistency when a message has been sent loud and clear to the nation that Jeremy, and by implication the rest of the Top Gear team, and his millions of fans, will be voting Tory?
