On the first day God created the Heaven and the Earth. On the second day He (or she?) created crawling things; slugs, worms, Arsenal fans, lizards. On the third day… And on the fifth day He stopped to vote. Ok there was a sixth day for something else, and a seventh day was declared the sabbath; the day of rest, tennis, tai chi and football. Amen. Genesis Ch. 1.

Why do we always vote on thursdays? Where’s it written? But we do. We dutifully trudge down to the polling station at our local primary school and get our voting forms and we vote.

Today it was for the London Assembly, (like we give a shit), the local council (all worthless) and the London Mayor. The new Boris. Who is going to replace the most famous blond since Debbie Harry? The gobbiest, out-of-Europist, brash, funny and most intensely annoying mayor we’ve ever had. Ken Livingstone was brash and annoying but never funny or in any way endearing.

Ok, its not like I didn’t know until this morning that there was going to be an election and had no clue who was standing. They’ve been banging on about it for a year. Or more. But I’ve been waiting for inspiration. Not my own, but something in any of the candidates to show me they have some worth, maybe some integrity, perhaps some virtue that they could bring to this most fabulous of all cities, to enhance it. To bring something special to the game.

I waited in vain. They’re all fucking worthless. And the two main (if not ‘two only’) candidates have wasted the entire campaign insulting and abusing each other and thus managing to ignore anything that may be considered ‘an issue’. Yeah, they bang on about housing, “I’m going to build 50,000 new homes every year!!” shrieks Sadiq Kahn, labour puppet and, in case you missed it the first 9,783 times he said it: ‘the son of a bus driver’. “Well I’m going to build 51,000 new homes each year!!!!!” moans Zak Goldsmith, Tory pretty-boy squillionaire, who could probably pay for such a thing out of his own ‘loose change’ in his pockets.

They have to say that. London has a housing crisis. Build houses. That’s easy. Less easy is the ‘where you put them’ question, but you don’t win elections by creating problems. You win elections by bringing the opposing candidates into disrepute. Apparently.

And then I did have inspiration. I realised how lucky I am to be in Britain. Because if I was American I’d be a part of the Donald Trump machine. Even as a reluctant detractor, he’d have some effect on my life. Awful. I saw this picture on the front page of today’s paper and thought at first it was just an advert for a new cosmetic surgery clinic. Then I realised it was the Orange One making it to the Grand Final of American politics.

Back in London, Zak-baby pushes his ‘green’ issues. Always has. Unusual for a Tory, they’re normally only into ‘green’ if its on the back of non-sequential dollar bills. Zac wants to clean up the City and ‘punish gas guzzlers’. That did it for me. We don’t have a constitutional right to bear arms here. But we do have a right to pollute the atmosphere with inappropriate motorised vehicles.

God bless… yeah, whatever

Happy voting day

A xxxx