In an opinion poll, 49% of people think Ed Miliband, the Labour Party leader, should be replaced. They don’t say with what. Perhaps a nice lampshade for the corner of the room? A salt-beef sandwich on rye? Flat screen tv? Though my initial reaction was: ‘what the fuck is wrong with the other 51% of people’??

60% of voters said Ed wasn’t up to the job of being Prime Minister. 90% thought he wasn’t fit to operate a microwave. One person from North West London wondered why the word ‘tosser’ didn’t appear anywhere on the list of questions when it seemed so appropriate to the subject matter.

I think the real problem with Mr Milliband the Ed is not that he looks and acts strange. Nor that he is perceived as ‘nothing even close to normal’, that he’s odd, wierd, has the charm of a waiter in a kosher restaurant, the communication skills of crab and the likeability of… of… of… of someone very unlikeable. No. The problem is that he will never be forgiven for stealing his brother’s birthright in the most biblical of coups when he stole the Labour leadership from under brother David’s nose. Even Cain and Abel went ‘wow!!! holy shit!!!’ when that happened.

Looking at the quality of our political leadership, it doesn’t bode well for the short-term future of our fine nation. Milliband, Cameron, Clegg(????). No wonder Nigel Farage has come so far whilst offering so little.

And so to the big dilemma. Of the day/week/lifetime… well, of the last 4 years.

Tonight England play Uruguay in the biggest match… of… quite some time. If we lose we’ll join Spain in coming home from Brazil in shame, with Wayne Rooney’s head returning home seperately in the hold of a dirty old cargo ship. If we win then the hope can linger for another week until we play Costa Rica. And as all Spurs fans know only too well; its the hope that kills. So this game is beyond big; its humungous. Its vast. More important than the Labour leader, than Syrian fighters, than war in Iraq, than curing the common cold.

But Thursday night is Tai Chi. Because I couldn’t go tuesday due to bridge (my other martial art) and I hate not going once in the week and again on Saturday. Because I might forget it all and return to being a wimp. More than that, Tai Chi is a life committment, its a state of mind, a wonderful place that exists half way between Beijing and the David Lloyd in Finchley. And I take it seriously, my allegiance to the dojo, to the philosophy (of hurting people really badly), to my grandmaster and my brothers in our common aim to make the world a much better, and slightly more violent, place.

But the football is just SOOOOOOOOOOO big.

Oh, help me Lord.

Troubled Thursday

A xxxx