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John Bercow ex Speaker of HoCs

It will be a hope of being offered a Labour safe seat, which I don't see happening.

Oddly a good friend of mine got to know John Bercow a while ago, and essentially, politically, he was a Lib Dem in all but name at that point, in the same way that the nearby constituency to his former seat has very recently turned Lib Dem. So I was genuinely shocked when I saw he'd joined the Labour Party this evening. I suspect the deal is that he joins Labour, gets them some headlines in so doing, then Labour install him in the Lords (as is traditionally his right as a former speaker, denied to him by the Tories). This makes sense as Lords installations are largely a function of party seat share, and the Lib Dems have very little at the moment, whilst Labour have more. Once in the Lords, he can go back to being a sort of soft left Liberal New Labour Kier Starmer Ed Davey type legislator.

That's my theory anyway.
 
Has Bercow done this because he is pissed off because Johnson did not give him a peerage? Or, is he hoping to run for leadership of the Labour party ( which would never happen).
 
Poor old mentally scrambled Bercow going to 'Sir' Keir Starmaggedon's banner just as 'Sir' Keir slips into Trotsky's dustbin of history. Those poor 622 voters in the Battle of Chesham and Amersham must have been so busy masturbating about Diana the Queen of Hearts and Prince Charles's claret red face and good old Prince Andrews' perspiration in the Falklands War and his lovely anal sex session with Virgina Guffrie that they slipped up and voted for him. Poor old Sir Keir - he's got a great job ahead of him cleaning excrement with his little bogbrush in a toilet block in a caravan park in Huddersfiled. The visitors to the caravan park will notice Sir Keir and greet him with all the warmth and bonhomie that people do when they encounter a celebrity such as Kim Kardashian or Kanye West. He will be so very busy answering all their febrile questions that he might forget to clean all that excrement up and lose his job and have to schlepp off to the JobCentre Plus! Hope he does his daily job search or he might have his Tyrant Coin food stamps sanctioned and then what would happen to him? Would he die like all those poor disabled people they sanctioned?
 
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Wholeheartedly welcomed by John McDonnell
It seems self-evident that any soi-disant, democratic socialist party performing that role should not attract life-long Conservatives.

McDonnell should also be aware that any “political capital” deriving from this scalp, pales into insignificance when set against the political ineptitude of trumpeting a Tory ‘defector’ hot on the heels of losing the core in Chesham & Amersham and trying to hang on to the >60% Leave Batley & Spen.

Crap politics all round.
 
Rat-faced little self-important tossrag who used to wear a hang Nelson Mandela t-shirt at university. Perfect fit for Starmer's 'Labour' party.
Innit?
his political "journey", which has been a long and colourful one.

It began in the ultra right wing environs of the Conservative Monday Club.

This pressure group was set up in the early 1960s to uphold traditional Tory values and fight what it saw as the reckless decolonisation of the British Empire.

But by the time Mr Bercow joined in the early 1980s, it was chiefly known for advocating the voluntary repatriation of some immigrants and its dedication to combating socialism at home and abroad.

So while his future Labour Party supporters and friends were taking part in CND marches or manning picket lines, the young Bercow was discussing with the Monday Club's retired colonels and right wing ideologues how best to stop them.

Fired up by his political heroes Margaret Thatcher and Enoch Powell, he rapidly rose to become secretary of the club's repatriation and immigration committee - an impressive achievement for a teenager.

In an interview with the New Statesman nine years ago Mr Bercow looked back on those days, saying: "Powell convinced me that it was right to fear large-scale immigration. This was 1981, the year of the inner-city riots, and my fear was that we were in a politically explosive situation.

"So I stayed with the Monday Club on the immigration and repatriation committee for 18 months, until it became clear that there were a lot of people at the meetings who were really unpleasant racists and so I left."
 
A labour party with room for Bercow but not Corbyn. Jesus.
Good old Jeremy Corbyn has a fine and esteemed place in the Republic. The others can go and live in their filth and squalor shtting bricks into their pasel grey Y-fronts and muck in a failed state in Latin America and actually think for the first time in their sorrry, sorry lives. In small shacks in provincial townships without running water or electricity. With three pesos a day to buy their little tiny croissants and bagels with. They have a lot to reflect on.
 
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I've got news for you. The left is supposed to be actually on the left. Chasing tory votes above all else has been a catastophe so far and that's unlikely to change.

I’d see that problem if he was brought in to develop Labour policy but he hasn’t.
 
Winston Churchill crossed the floor twice

Not my side of the fence (I'm with Attlee and Bevan) but it amuses me to think of what kind of bollocking a furiiously drunken Churchill would give to poor old muddled up and higgdley piggledy Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson who is collapsing ever more rapidly into his criminal trial. Poor old Alexander might never say a single word again afterwards and be entirely mute like the poor old autistic kids I worked with in a National Autistic Society school in Radlett, Hertfodshire. The poor fruit - he's going to be so busy trying to remember the names of his 564,187,127 sprogs in the trial that he might just plead the right to silence as he gets forensically cross-examined. The riotous laughter from the public gallery will utterly melt his mind and he'll be so busy trying to remember whether he is married to Carrie or Jennifer Arcuri or Marina that he might just never speak a single syllable again for good.
 
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Not my side of the fence (I'm with Attlee and Bevan) but it amuses me to think of what kind of bollocking a furiiously drunken Churchill would give to poor old Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson who is collapsing ever more rapidly into his criminal trial. Poor old Alexander might never say a single word again afterwards and be entirely mute like the poor old autistic kids I worked with in a National Autistic Society school in Radlett, Hertfodshire.
You seem to live in a bizarro fantasy world right now.
 
Not my side of the fence (I'm with Attlee and Bevan) but it amuses me to think of what kind of bollocking a furiiously drunken Churchill would give to poor old muddled up and higgdley piggledy Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson who is collapsing ever more rapidly into his criminal trial. Poor old Alexander might never say a single word again afterwards and be entirely mute like the poor old autistic kids I worked with in a National Autistic Society school in Radlett, Hertfodshire. The poor fruit - he's going to be so busy trying to remember the names of his 564,187,127 sprogs in the trial that he might just plead the right to silence as he gets forensically cross-examined.
Johnson would shuffle into an empty room and blow his foot off after an interview with wsc
 
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