Scene: A sub-basement deep in Labour Party HQ, London.
Cast: Chairperson, Comrade 1, Comrade 2.
Dress: 70s chic, kipper ties, flares and shoulder pads. Those bipeds self-identifying as women have big hair and any men Weetabix comb overs a la Scargill.
CHAIRPERSON: I call this meeting to order. Comrades Corbyn, McDonnell, Abbott and McCluskey have tasked us with writing the Labour manifesto for the upcoming election.
COMRADE 1: Attempting to gain power through the democratic process is to cede authority to the bourgeois fascists.
CHAIRPERSON: The leadership have outlined the path forward. We will put aside any dangerous individualistic tendencies and follow the wise instructions of the leadership.
COMRADE 2: But can we craft a manifesto so progressive that Polly Toynbee will call it ‘a cornucopia of delights’?
COMRADE 1: Not just Toynbee. Think Owen Jones, think Ian McKellen, think Momentum.
CHAIRPERSON: Remember comrades, as we have no hope of winning the election, we can put in it everything we like. Nationalisation, soak the rich, create more government jobs,
COMRADE 2: We can make the top five per cent of the population pay for everything.
CHAIRPERSON: Don’t forget the greedy corporations.
COMRADE 2: Brilliant as ever, Chairperson. Increase corporation tax immediately. Either they contribute to the development of governmental control and pay for all our policies, or they will be driven from the country necessitating nationalisation. We win either way.
COMRADE 1: Yes, and Comrade Abbott can explain how we have a fully costed manifesto. With Comrade Diane to explains the maths no one could doubt our economic policy.
CHAIRPERSON: Our work is done. Let us close this planning meeting by singing our anthem.
ALL STAND, RAISE A CLENCHED FIST AND SING:
I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Venezuela,
In England’s green & pleasant Land.
(Image: Valter Campanato)