Blair also walks with God
"Where are my snakes, I must handle my
snakes. Kucntiy humbel titoptoit jada haf"
"He's speaking in tounges again, isn't he"
This is from Chicken Yoghurt
God is our co-pilotIn America, wearing religion on your sleeve is fine. In the UK, it makes Blair sound a bit nutty.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
If this was anything to do with trying to appeal to the electorate, he wouldn't be so excruciatingly honest.
That's Stephen Pound MP, speaking about Tony Blair's latest only-God-can-judge-me gambit, inadvertently writing New Labour's epitaph. I don't think I've seen the mendacity, the arrogance, and the fear of the truth that is the New Labour project encapsulated so perfectly. It's elegant in its simplicity.
And that it should come from as loyal a Blairite as Pound is the big plump cherry on the top. Write that quote down and put it in your pocket. The next time Tony Blair makes an appeal on any subject ("Look, I simply believe it's the right thing to do") whether it be Iraq, Iran, education reform, new nuclear weapons, even that the sun came up this morning, take the piece of paper out and read it.
So, Blair said:
In the end, there is a judgement that, I think if you have faith about these things, you realise that judgement is made by other people... and if you believe in God, it's made by God as well.
Is the Prime Minister briefing against God here? Sharing the blame? That's one for the lobby correspondents. I can see Nick Robinson on the Ten O'clock News:
I've been told privately tonight that while God still has the the Prime Minister's full confidence, Our Lord isn't out of the woods yet. Backbenchers are calling for God to go.
The problem with involving God in the decision-making process on matters of war is that he's an unelected official. I mean, aren't there constitutional ramifications here? He's not even a government minister like Lords Falconer, Adonis and Drayson. He's, at best, a special adviser with too much power.
As much as he should be pelted and mocked for yet another sweaty, weaselly attempt at wriggling from, shall we say, temporal accountability, I do have a nagging sympathy for Blair. A person so steeped in blood and horror would frantically search for even the slimmest shot at forgiveness and redemption or else surely go mad, wouldn't they? I wonder if, deep down, if he's truly frightened of what might happen to him when he's finally gathered unto justice. I hope so.
(Maybe we could persuade a now idle Fathers 4 Justice activist to sneak into Downing Street and jump out of Blair's wardrobe in the middle of the night dressed as the Devil.)
No longer having to face the court of the electorate, it seems the Prime Minister now deems only one authority now fit to judge him. Maybe he pictures himself as David Niven in A Matter of Life and Death, raffishly winning a second chance. Or has he been reading his Dostoyevsky and, after committing such terrible crimes, now sees himself as the reborn Raskolnikov:
He did not know that the new life would not be given him for nothing, that he would have to pay dearly for it, that it would cost him great striving, great suffering. But that is the beginning of a new story – the story of the gradual renewal of a man, the story of his gradual regeneration, of his passing from one world into another, of his initiation into a new unknown life. That might be the subject of a new story, but our present story is ended.
Draw a line. Move
posted by Steve @ 7:27:00 PM