Tuesday, April 27, 2010


In the interests of investigative journalism, I built a rocket made of a Fairy Liquid bottle(empty), four baked bean cans(also empty) and a rolled up cardboard nose cone, in the front garden. With the aid of some accelerant I'd put by to drink during the next party leaders' TV debate, I set light to its drinking straw fuse, and took off for the moon. Which is how far Wifey is prepared to go for a good interview.

I had a bit of a problem finding the Man in the Moon when I got there. I even had to strip off and swim across the sea of tranquility which was as flat and wet as a Liberal Democrat conference, but I dried myself off and took another of my little purple pills and pretty soon afterwards, he turned up.

The Man in the Moon is roundish - a bit like Alex Salmond who has also gone stellar recently, but shinier somehow - which is probably the star quality he shares with Nick Clegg and Andrew Neil.

I put it to him that he may well be on the cusp of playing a major role in British politics and levering Clegg into Number 10. Clegg has assured all and sundry he is prepared to work with the Man from the Moon. But was the Moon Man prepared to work with Clegg?

The Man in the Moon apparently has a price, he told me.
The job of Shadow Chancellor? Half the other Cabinet jobs for his planetary mates, the pick of the government car pool, and an i-Pad, I proferred.
He shook his head and three small tsunamis swept through South-East Asia.
Gordon Brown's immense head then, complete with genuine rictus grin, on a buffed and silver platter?
That would be nice, he said, but No. He was way past human sacrifice.
What then? Down on earth, the parties were frantic to do a political mash-up with Nick Clegg. What would it take for the Man in the Moon to deal.

He wants porridge. Cold and plummy.
And a map of Norwich.
He wouldn't say why.
Nick Clegg... over to you.

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