Happy Warrior
Hugo Rifkind has a bit of fun in The Times with this piece which re-imagines a week in the life of the Labour leader, Ed Miliband.
Now a lot of words spring to mind when I think about Ed, but 'happy' and 'warrior' don't come anywhere near my top ten I have to say.
My week: Ed Miliband*
Has endured a week of personal attacks from the Tories Reuters
Published at 12:01AM, April 11 2015
Monday
“Ooh, look,” says Ed Balls, as I walk into our election HQ, “here comes the happy warrior.”
I’m not sure whether to laugh or punch him. Then I realise I should probably do both.
“Personally,” says Harriet Harman, “I don’t understand why that one is even a smear.”
It isn’t, I tell her. It’s a quote from my notes from the last leaders’ debate. Friends, that is just who I am. I make no apology for this. Am I a happy warrior? Hell yes! This is the Britain I believe in. Because you know, friends, the other day I met a man in a park who . . .
Ed Balls slaps me.
“Ed?” he says. “Back in the room now?”
“Yes,” I say. “Sorry.”
“It’s the strain,” he tells Harriet. “I’m having to do that a lot.”
Harriet looks worried. “These attacks won’t stop,” she says.
“It’s ridiculous,” says Ed, “He can’t be a ruthless backstabber and a hapless robot. He’s got to be one or the other.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said,” I say, welling up.
“Slap him again,” says Harriet.
Tuesday
The whole team is poring over the papers. “More smears?” says Harriet.
“This one is really dirty,” says Ed Balls.
“There is no depth,” sighs Chuka Umunna, “to which they will not stoop.”
I need to hear it, I say.
“Apparently,” says Harriet, biting her knuckles, “Tony Blair wants you to win the election.”
“Pathetic,” I snort. “I mean, it’s not even plausible.”
Wednesday
This morning I unveiled my plan to scrap non-dom tax status. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before footage emerged of Ed Balls a few months ago, saying this was a terrible idea.
“But I’m the shadow chancellor,” says Ed. “Shouldn’t we have discussed this?”
I shrug. This is the Britain I believe in. That’s just who I am. One Nation. Predators versus the other ones. Aliens? Not aliens. Whatever. You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth! Why, Just the other day, in a telephone box that smelled of urine, I spoke to a . . .
