It’s too late to cancel the Scottish independence vote now, we’ll have to let that go ahead. There’s a bi-election on the way as well but I’m not currently focused on whether some skinny Tory tit can beat off a man named Roger in some coastal town filled with people gasping for one last view of the sea before they heave their final decrepit breath.
But people probably think they’re going to get a vote in a general election in whatever’s left of the UK in May next year. Well, people are wrong, because I’ve just cancelled it.
I’m afraid it’s time the people of this country accepted that a healthy majority, in terms of numbers if not health, do not understand how elections work and therefore shouldn’t have the right to elect anything more than the next chairman of John Lewis. And because I despise the upper classes of this country just as much as the imbeciles who vote for whoever Murdoch likes this month, I’m banning the whole process, and declaring myself in charge at the head of a very angry dictatorship.
Scotland are currently trying to work out whether to fuck off by themselves, and whether they should or shouldn’t is not for me to say, though obviously they shouldn’t. Yet kilted prat after kilted prat has been on my TV in the last couple of weeks saying something like this: “They say we won’t be allowed to keep the pound and our economy will go to shit, but to be honest I think they’re just scaremongering, so I’m voting ‘yes’.”
A naked (impressively chested) young lady covered in blood runs shrieking from a cabin in a forest. There’s a reasonable chance that there’s a madman with an axe in there chopping up her boyfriend, but to be honest I think she’s just scaremongering so I think I’ll pop my head round the door anyway.
As patiently as I can manage: just because they’re saying things to frighten you, it doesn’t mean you’re not all going to be left bankrupt within a week, tearing each other’s hair out for food and fucking the neighbour’s guinea pig because ‘a need ma hole’ before you die screaming. Right now in Aberdeen there are people saying ‘we want to rule ourselves we don’t want more Tory governments we want democracy wah wah wah’ ohhhh Christ, fucking get it through your heads that one day, believe it or not, David Cameron will get old and die and not be Prime Minister any more so using him and his evil chums as a reason to vote for independence is like stockpiling sun loungers and burning all your coats in June.
Meanwhile, in a seaside town in Essex or Kent or Suffolk or wherever the fuck they’re all almost dead and therefore love Nigel Farage, there’s a bi-election, and a hag was asked by a reporter if she’d vote UKIP. Oh yes, she said. She was then asked if she’d vote UKIP in the next general election. Oh I don’t know about that, she said.
My darling, you simply do not understand how these things work, and oh I’m sorry that bell means it’s your turn for the crematorium. She brilliantly underlined the mistake most people make in elections: they think their vote is crucial.
It’s painful to have to say this to you, but your one single vote makes fuck all difference to anything. Yes, it’s important to cast it, to have a say, but it’s one vote. One out of many thousands does not a crucial vote make. So might you not just as well vote for who you actually want to be the winner?
Perhaps, just perhaps, you should vote for who you think best represents your views. If everyone did that then, yes, this fucking place might end up with Nick Griffin as Prime Minister but if that’s what it takes to break this lunatic idea that we can only vote for a couple of parties because we assume that’s what everyone else will do, so fucking be it. When will you people fucking realise that they all start on zero?
In 1997, my first general election, I voted for the Tories. The logic behind that was it seemed clear that Labour were going to win by a huge margin, and that didn’t seem healthy for politics (I wanted Labour to win, just not control the world forever more), so I voted for some blue dickhead in a pathetic attempt to balance it up a bit. I’ve hated that logic ever since.
In every election since, I’ve voted for the candidate closest to my own views, regardless of party. In the 2008 mayoral election I voted for an independent candidate named Lindsey German and subsequently got blamed, personally, by a mate in the pub for allowing the idiot Johnson to win because I’d not voted for Ken Livingstone.
No-one thinks any more, nobody weighs up pros and cons – they just expel sound at each other. If Scotland go independent, if a town of old people vote UKIP, it’s fine so long as they’ve thought it through rather than react insanely against other people, or base their vote on what other people might do, or what people they don’t like have said. Sometimes, a big red button with ‘Do Not Press’ on it is a detonator.
It’s your vote, use it to vote for who you want to win, not for who you think can win, because at the start of a vote everyone can win, and your one single vote does not decide a goddamn thing.
But you won’t listen, I know that – so that’s it, no more elections. It’s vote for me by sending me a postal order or don’t vote for anyone from now on. Be it Clacton or Clyde the people of this country are too stupid to be trusted with a vote on anything so I hereby proclaim I am the ruler of you all like you one day knew I would and secretly wanted all along.