Meet The New Boss

It was impossible to escape the post-election coverage last night, much to Mrs Wife's disdain, she being of the opinion that Eastenders and Heston Blumenthal's Mental Kitchen (or whatever it's called) are of far more importance than who'll be running the country over the next five years.

 

I thought Gordon Brown's resignation speech was extremely dignified given the circumstances, and that David Cameron's address from the steps of 10 Downing Street smacked of schadenfreude.

 

Looking ahead, I can't help but think that the Liberal Democrats have cut their own throats. By sliding into bed with the Tories, they've made a mockery of their supposed LIBERAL tendencies (the clue's in the title Mr Clegg), and if they think they stand a real chance of altering Tory policy, I fear that they may be sorely mistaken.

 

Maybe I'll be proved wrong, and the first coalition government this country has seen in 70 years will herald a new age in politics.

 

But the overwhelming feeling is that something, somewhere, went wrong.

 

The next year is going to be interesting though, and this is only the second change of government of my lifetime. Worryingly, there's a certain sense of deja vu as "Dave" saunters into Number 10, six months younger than when the man I despise more than any other on the planet did the same thing in 1997.

 

Hopefully we won't have to endure 10 years of his Return To Blair routine though.

 

(As a final aside, am I the only person who thinks that Samantha Cameron is more attractive than a Prime Minister's wife ought to be? Fair enough, Sarah Brown and Cherie Blair aren't much competition, but still....)