How to get fucked in Brighton

‘Maggie. I really am fucked this time, aren’t I?’

‘Just wave, you cunt.’

Well, it’s the day after the Labour Conference’s ‘Big Day’ – Gordon’s speech – and the aftermath looks like the political equivalent of a Trident nuclear missile scoring a direct hit on a sewage farm.

There’s SHIT everywhere.

Of course, Labour stalwarts are saying that there’s a renewed fire in their bellies and that a Labour defeat isn’t inevitable next year, but the consensus of opinion seems to contradict that rather limp prediction.

Simply put, Brown is just 12 years too late.

If New Labour had actually tackled the problems he outlines when they came to power, and which were all there in one form or another back in 1997 – had anyone had the nouse to actually look at the possible impact of lack of fiscal restraint and removal of self-responsibility – then we might be looking at a fourth Labour term.

However, yesterday’s speech was a predictable mixture of populist proposals – hostels for teenage mothers – climbdowns – no compulsory ID cards – and public spending recklessness – family intervention initiatives.

In other words, the mixture as before – kneejerk reactions to public concerns backed up by hasty planning and with no regard for efficacy or cost.

And now, even the Sun doesn’t like Labour.

Labour really are fucked.

More fucked than a fucker being fucked by some other fuckers during a fucking fuck fest.