I started off in a really good mood this morning, got up early. pottered about, ripped a load of old northern vinyl and a few new techno twelves that I purchased recently to mp3. I then started to sort out the singles which I had taken to the Flying Duck and put them all back in the correct boxes. All of this before anyone else in the house stirred.
L went out got the paper and rustled together breakfast which I eagerly tucked into and I turned to the Comment section of the Guardian when after reading Polly Toynbee's article my mood started to change. By the time I had read Ian McMillan's excellent piece I had become thoroughly depressed.
For the past couple of weeks the feeling of foreboding has been growing in me over the policies being unveiled by the Coalition of the social climbers and the power hungry. The idea of any clown with enough money being able to open a school and set the curriculum makes me feel very sorry for parents south of the border, Education being a devolved matter means that this will not apply to Scotland and in my opinion would never have a snowball in hell's chance of being brought into statute if ever seriously proposed here.
The projects which were scrapped during the week such as the proposed hospital in Hartlepool and the withdrawal of the loan to Forgemasters in Sheffield reek of the punitive measures Thatcher used to heap on Scotland for not voting Tory. Remember the Poll Tax? It was introduced here first.
Another sight which made me want to retch this week was that muppet Osbourne in his finery, talking bollocks about fairness to all those other gits at the Lord Mayor's dinner. None of whom will be affected by library closures, public sector job losses, cuts in benefits and the rest of the painful but necessary measures that will be implemented next week.
On Tuesday we will find out to what extent that "we are all in it together" and I would be more inclined to bet on England winning the World Cup than on the chances of even the slightest of tax rises for those who can most afford it.
And you know what, Clegg and his cronies will not even have the decency to be ashamed of sharing the same benches as the Bullingdon Boys.
I will stop now, as I'm beginning to get even more depressed and if you are now more pissed of than you were before reading this then I apologise.
King Creosote - Not One Bit Ashamed