I quite like being a person of a certain age. I can enjoy my political rage and, thanks to teh interwebs, vent it, in the not entirely vain hope of catching an echo from a like-minded soul out there, but, and this is the thing, without worrying about it all too much.
When you've seen it all before, you know how little the buggers can actually do. It's better having your own lot in government, of course, but as every issue of Private Eye makes plain, election promises are almost never fulfilled once a new minister gets hold of that Seal of Office.
Election promises are dreamed up by sweaty, maniacal wonks who egg each other on, believing that Being In Government is like becoming Dumbledore. Overnight. Hahahaha.
Once the burdens of office are unpacked and explained in all their horrible detail by Sir Humphrey, what is actually possible (without making matters worse) seems like, er, very little. Ask Michael Gove or Theresa May. Not to mention George Osborne. And Cable and Huhne... mwahahahahaha...
As Balfour said, nothing matters very much and few things matter at all. And politicians don't actually do very much, for good or ill. Not that they don't try, which is why one has to watch the bastards like a hawk. They do have some power and and some of them are closer to Voldemort than to Dumbledore. But on the whole, life goes on and Balfour was right.
Voices off: 'Who are you and what have you done with Prodicus?'
Chill, people. Chill. For a while, anyway. Then, back to the knitting.
PS: the philosophers are far more to blame for society's ills than the politicians. On which topic I intend to blog at length at some point. But not today.
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