Election speak

‘It’s not good enough just to appear on your doorstep at election times,’ says the leaflet from Chuka Umunna, my local Labour candidate. Which is presumably why he hasn’t.

This is not to imply that I have never seen him. I once caught a glimpse of him galloping past my house. I think he was speed canvassing. One of his helpers knocked on my door for a chat, though, which was nice. She was one of those cheerful, ruddy-cheeked, capable-looking community organiser types. The kind who knows how to administer basic first aid to a severed artery. She wouldn’t necessarily save your life but she’d make you a bit more comfortable while you were dying.

She wasn’t at all fazed by my ranting on about how civilisation as we know it was falling apart. She just smiled and thrust a leaflet at me inviting me to an ‘Ed Miliband climate change event’ at Streatham community centre.