The Lincoln Plawg - the blog with footnotes
Sunday, November 28, 2004
Blair: it's just conceivable that there is a God after all...
If Shakespeare was providing the script, the fall of the crusader saint would turn on one of the illegal wars he's treated himself to ad majorem gloriam suam.
But, just as the Feds had to resort to charges of tax evasion to see Al Capone into the slammer, it seems the Blair regime may be laid low by a prehensile dick, and the twat it's attached to.
His Home Secretary is known for being Yorkshire, blind and an enthusiast for a soaraway incarceration rate . I have never found myself considering his degree of attractiveness until a day or two ago: he is, it turns out, a dog , though not quite in the gargoyle class of, say, erstwhile Blair ministers Robin Cook and Clare Short.
The story of Blunkett and the tottie (one Kimberly Quinn ) is all over (as here): how far the woman's allegations of ministerial misconduct are true, we know not.
Blunkett's problem is not that he fucked the bint, nor even that (if indeed he did) he fathered bastards on her: neither fornication nor illegitimacy matter as they once did. It's the fact that he can't leave it alone that, whether any of Quinn's allegations are true, make him look ridiculous and lacking in judgement (or sanity).
Yet Blair can't really cut him loose, as he did (twice) to flamboyant (and coincidentally queer) court favourite Peter Mandelson (over the Geoffrey Robinson and Hinduja affairs): his status in the government is too exalted, and he has a proper job - which includes a whole further raft of pre-election crime-busting goodies to pilot through the Commons.
Bizarre indeed if the maritally chaste (though militarily promiscuous) Blair should find the skids put under his miserable reign by another guy's inability to think with the organ God gave him for the purpose.
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