“Unpolished authenticity?” Sean cried. “Whatever can they mean?”
“Like Trump I presume.”
“But wasn’t Trump unpolished in a…racist way?”
“What’s your point?” (I think that was a joke but one can never be sure.)
“No. He was anti-establishment which is a crucial difference.”
“But — ”
“Be quiet! I’m strategising!” Barked Sean. “Do you think we can get away with calling the Beeb institutionally sexist for replacing a lady with a handbag?”
Not much on the agenda today. I’ve been promoted to Head of Culture, which I was pretty excited about, assuming that it meant I’d be joining Dr John Tom Watson in the Strictly audience or at the BBC Sports Personality of the Year awards (that vote’s going to be about as close as the 2016 Labour Leadership election).
Alas, it was not to be and Head of Culture actually put me as Sean Milner’s right-hand comrade, ensuring the cultural revolution we had embarked on against the commentariat would continue apace. (It basically meant me vetting the press headlines prior to the Leader’s morning briefings, so he got only what was factually accurate — a bit like what Chairman Mao did with books in general I suppose.)
“Trickett claims he’s been working 15 hour days to put the party on standby.” I read.
“Do you have to read out-loud?” Sean barked. Which was a shame as I thought Putin’s imminent victory should have put him in a good mood.
“Standby for what do you think? Another Tatchell stage invasion?” I continued, pretended not to have heard him, which was difficult as we were sharing a computer screen.
“I assume he’s talking about preparations for a snap general election.”
“But the PM ruled that out I thought?”
“To be fair I think it could be May — hahaha May, get it? May 2020 and it’ll still feel like a snap.”
I continued reading aloud; well until I was rudely interrupted by one of the new apprentices — a delightful MA Cantab who couldn’t find employment upon her graduation, so enrolled in one of these Government-funded apprentice schemes.
“Isn’t the SDLP our sister party not Sinn Fein?”
I thought Sean was going to spontaneously combust. It was getting kind of awkward, and I’ve seen Diane Abbott get asked questions requiring coherent answers.
I wasn’t getting very far, so I switched from The Guardian to the Morning Star which in all fairness, is probably where I should have begun. Naturally it drew some raised eyebrows from my comrades in the room. I don’t know what their problem is — I’d rather be owned by the Communist Party than Paul Dacre. And at least the Morning Star reports on what we’re up to.
Editing the Morning Star turned out to take less time than expected as it was all pretty factually accurate really. With Sean having popped out for a book club meeting with J Mac, I decided to sneak off early and get some Christmas shopping, on my Red Ken bike.
“Watch out for Chris Grayling!” Kate cried. I never get her jokes.
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