I think it’s very, very important to make fun of politicians. Very important. In the age of the career politician, they seem to have become this slightly inhuman creature, wriggling their fingers and cackling together in corners. They come either at Mr Burns, from The Simpsons, or kids in the playground, having a squabble. “Yes, I know the economy has gone to shit, BUT LABOR STARTED IT.” And when you look at it that way, it’s really hard to not make fun of them. I don’t think we really acknowledge just how much power these men (yes, men. In the UK the ratio of male to female politicians is alarming, but that’s another story for another time) is utterly terrifying. They can have power over our jobs, our houses, who we can marry, if we’re allowed to leave or re-enter the country. I recently finished reading ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, by Margret Atwood. I had to hide under my bed for most of it. If you haven’t read it, I suggest you do, and then I suggest you cry.
I like making fun of politicians. It briefly brings some of the power back to us. George Osborne may take benefits away from the disabled, but ahahahaha, he looks like a confused six year old. I want to do that thing where you pinch his cheeks and wibble his face. I have nick-named him Puppy, much to the annoyance of my family – who like watching the news in the evening.
Recently the news came out that Nick Clegg would like to carry on the coalition after the next election. Of course he would, he’d miss cuddle time with David Cameron.
I’m not even going to start on Ed Balls. I’ll let you fill in your own jokes there.