THE MARTYRDOM OF NICK CLEGG
they know not what they
do!
I must admit that I have a
strong, possibly unhealthy reaction to Nick Clegg. It has existed in me from
the first time he registered on my radar and never abated, even during the
period of so called Clegg mania. For a very brief period prior to the last
election, sickened by Labour’s record on civil liberties, I toyed with the idea
of voting Lib Dem; one look at Nick Clegg convinced me that this would be a
terrible mistake. Those mournful eyes, that strangely depleted look, the
innocent abroad in this wicked world demeanour, the sickly scent of martyrdom,
all were present even then.
There was a time in the
1980’s when Transactional Analysis, TA, was all the rage, even seen as
something of a panacea. I myself went on to use elements of TA in my own work
in addiction and mental health. One of the interesting aspects of TA was the
concept of life-scripts, roles that get hard wired into the psyche during
childhood to be acted out ever after during the unexamined life. One such role
was the martyr, the mournful figure treading through life like Marley carrying
a sign around his/her neck bearing the legend ‘please don’t kick me;’
which of course produces an overwhelming desire to deliver a solid boot to
the posterior. I look at Nick Clegg standing beside Cameron, pleading the case
for the coalition, despite the awful hammering it has given him in the polls and
see the sign swinging loosely around his neck.
In the wake of the collapse
of the Lords reform legislation[1]
he now possesses more power over the Tory right[2]
than at anytime since the formation of the coalition, he will not use it, for to do so
would rob him of the rewards of his Jesus Christ complex. A man of true
principles, who when he must disregard them, as he did with student fees, he
does so only the better for all our sakes; in truth he is too good for us. His fate
the fate of all saintly souls, he will be rejected by the people.
All of this produces in me
an overwhelmingly desire to pour a bucket of shit* over the
mournful Mr Clegg. The sooner he departs his own chosen Calgary the better for
all of us. *Purely methaphorically of course!
[1] A collapse Clegg blames on
everybody but himself, everyone else is mercenary, cold and calculating,
propelled by base motives, only he is motivated by virtue. At the core of his
defeat was a rotten bill that sought to replace one un-accountable legislative
chamber by another equally un-accountable one.
[2] The comedy of this
delusional bunch having failed to win the last election in the most favourable
of circumstances they imagine themselves someone cheated of their ‘victory’ by
the Lib Dems who propped them up.
