And while Colostomy was the one who 'cried Havoc and let slip the dogs of Whelan and McBride', Darling's comments surely place him as the Marc Antony of the piece. Which brings us to:
Gordon Brown Act III Scene 2
Friends, Randall, Electorate, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Gollum, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Brown. The noble Hutton
Hath told you Gollum would be "a fucking disaster":
And it is so, he was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Gollum damaged us.
Here, as was done by Purnell and the rest--
For Purnell is an honourable man;
So are they all, except for Geoff Hoon who's a twat--
Come I to speak in Gollum's funeral.
He was my friend, yet briefed and smeared agin me:
But Peter says he was as Moses;
And Peter is a dishonourable man.
He hath brought many taxes home to roost
His ransoms did not the general coffers fill:
Did this in Gollum seem Prudent or competent?
When on the telly with Piers, Gollum hath wept:
Yet we all know he's made of harder stuff:
But Peter says he was as Moses;
And Peter is a dishonourable man.
You all did see that for the Leadership
It was presented him a kingly crown,
Elections he has twice refused: is this Courage?
But Peter says he was as Moses;
And, sure, he is a dishonourable man.
I speak not to disprove what smears were spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You never loved him once, you had no cause:
What cause commands you then, to shill for him?
O Government! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And Labour have lost their reason. Bear with me;
My political future is in the coffin there with Gollum,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
3 comments:
Absolutely brilliant!
Excellent stuff but surely you should have done the Scottish Play?
"a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
Excellent Dungeekin.
RichieP .. It was done for the death of McBride.
Macbride's Soliloquy: Act 5 Scene 5.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
A creep in this petty place
So like "The Day Today."
To spin to the last syllable of recorded air-time,
And all yesterday's news, only gave political fools
A pause for breath.
Out, out, truth vandal!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor Draper,
That cuts and pastes his hour upon the page;
And then is heard no more.
It is a tale. Told by a half-wit,
full of soundbites and perjury,
Justifying nothing.
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