Corbyn’s Labour: A Protein Shake Or A Shit Sandwich?

In the Labour Party today there are three distinct factions. This is taking into account not just the Parliamentary Labour Party, but also party membership, whose numbers have ballooned to make it the largest in Europe, in precise correlation with plunging its polling levels down to a dark point just a few inches above the bottom of the Mariana Trench.

On one side is the dwindling New Labour faithful- a dispassionate collection of breezily ruthless clean shirts. They look like glib senior managers, and behave like them too. While they could be dismissed as insincere careerists, their careers depend on winning elections, so perhaps realistic would be a fairer tag. Roundly dismissed by their detractors as narcissistic Blairites, they aren’t slow to point out that Blair nailed three elections.

Opposing them is the Corbyn accumulation. This in itself is a varied cluster, but can be broadly broken down into two groups.

First is what we might call the New Left. These people are young, judgmental and prone to tantrums. They almost certainly follow Owen Jones on Twitter, voted Remain, and think climate change is racist.

They admire true socialists like Tony Benn, but fail to recognise that their identity-driven, self-absorbed interpretation of left-wing ideology is something else entirely. Having chosen to shackle themselves to cumbersome PC moralizing, they are critically restricted in their ability to reason or debate, but can subsist solely on wi-fi in times of hardship.

Then there is the Hard Left. These guys are not politically correct. Oh Christ, no. On no account must they be let near a microphone. At their fringes are some hard-line bits and pieces who are more than likely to say something deeply sexist, issue a physical threat, suggest burning down Tory HQ and then exchange texts with Corbyn.

En masse though, the Hard Left are the keepers of the socialist flame, and they like nothing more than a long, shouty march, about anything- doesn’t matter.

The ideal Labour Party then, would be one whose leadership took all the best elements of these three factions and whipped them together into a restorative, left-of-centre protein shake, while ditching the noxious, dreggy aspects of each group.

From New Labour: Keep the suits, the haircuts and the media training, remembering that they’re right to think everyone judges on appearance.

Throw away the dishonesty, the lack of a moral compass, and the impression of being open to the idea of premeditated homicide.

From the New Left: Keep the laptops.

Ditch the defeated obsession with the EU. Do away with the misconception that it’s normal to despise your own country because you went to Berlin one weekend and the clubs were good. Dispose urgently of the undergraduate virtue signalling- really, no-one gives a fuck about sombreros.

And from the Hard Left: Keep the collective fortitude, the understanding of Brexit, and above all, keep the love of a good buffet well stocked with pork pies.

Casket up and bury deep in the cold, hard Earth like nuclear fallout: the threats, sexism, antisemitism, block headed inflexibility, pettiness, spite, regressive anti-Western rhetoric, and paranoid conspiracy theories.

Successfully merge this protean, diverse crop and you’re on to a winner, Labour, just like when you had Tony Bl… No, sorry, nothing like him. Just really good.

On the other hand, such experiments are unstable, and we mustn’t forget that the Labour Party is now led, precisely as it was before the pointless, no-contest, leadership pantomime, by a man who wants to ban “early evening socialisation” and is stalked by a mob of knife sharpening malcontents.

Be prepared that what you might end up with in attempting to unite the disparate cliques will be a spliced together, dysfunctional atrocity: promoting feminism while refusing to address the abuses of radical Islam; marching for workers’ rights and higher pay while calling all poor people stupid and campaigning for open borders; aware of the need to work the media, while also refusing to speak to the media.

Realistically, get ready for the possibility that your protein shake is a shit sandwich, and don’t even think about after work drinks.

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