Here in Great Britain, the leader of the opposition, Ed Miliband, kicked off his general election campaign by wining and jammin’ on literally dozens of underage girls at an open-air party on the member’s terrace of the House of Commons last week.
News of Miliband’s dance moves reverberated around the corridors of power in the Palace of Westminster, which has been covered in scaffolding for 45 years while successive generations of architects and archaeologists have fought pitched battles in the catacombs below the building over the excavation of skeletons thought to have dated back to the late Saxon period.
Reeking of real English ale which he was seen swilling from the kind of handled pint glasses last seen in pubs with no windows during the three-day week electricity crisis in 1973, Miliband was photographed as women wined on him from every conceivable angle.
Questioned about his actions, Miliband told journalists, “Look trouble now,” and disappeared back into the melee.
He was later heard screaming, “I looking for bacchanal. All over the place I hunting. Wining up on every gyal,” before ripping off his shirt and waving it over his head.
This radical departure from traditional campaigning tactics is believed to have been thought up by the Labour party’s backroom strategists, several of whom visited T&T on a field trip last month to monitor preparations for the election in the former British colony which, unfathomably, still uses the Westminster system of politics.
Nicky Morgan, the Minister for Women and Equalities quickly took to Twitter calling for Miliband to explain his actions or step down from his position as Labour leader.
“Mr Miliband has a wife at home. She must be appalled by this,” she tweeted, and was quickly drawn into a minefield of trolling Labour supporters who photoshopped her face onto memes of Nicki Minaj’s Anaconda video and plastered them over the Internet.
“I’d wine on him,” the shadow Minister for Women, Gloria De Piero, tweeted back. “And bloody hard too.”
The tweets were later deleted from her account.
Asked whether he had any regrets over his actions, Miliband claimed that he just wanted to wine on something—a staggering suggestion from a man hitherto seen as dowdy and dry. The Labour political machine appears to have gone into overdrive and public opinion poll ratings soared further as the week went on and the shadow cabinet came out in force on the campaign trail, getting behind their leader and endlessly gyrating on literally anything that moved.
“Let’s see whether Mr Cameron is prepared to wine on the dutty ground,” Miliband taunted his rival, the incumbent Prime Minister, as a quintet of buxom, multi-ethnic dancing girls in Labour-branded pum pum shorts jammed hard on shadow chancellor Ed Balls onstage at Doncaster town hall.
Following the party whip, Labour’s deputy leader, Harriet Harman was seen wukking and dragging her bottom all over her constituency of Camberwell and Peckham, shouting “ten woman to every man!” in what was thought to be the starkest signal yet of the intentions of Labour’s feminist fringe to flood parliament with women once elected.
“What we’ve seen here today is rel ting,” Shadow Minister for Business, Innovation and Skills, Chuku Umunna bellowed into the microphone as his truck pulled through his constituency of Lambeth. “Leh we end di party right now! And yes, I do mean the Conservative party!”
Behind the truck, Labour fanatics scrawled the initials of their party on the road and graffitied every conceivable surface with political slogans and puns in a garish red.
Meanwhile in Trinidad, opposition leader Keith Rowley, dressed in a suit and tie was seen entering his office before dawn where he remained for most of the day putting the finishing touches to a spending plan and responding to correspondences from community leaders and constituents.
Plans for his election campaign are not said to feature any form of bacchanal. Indeed, bacchanal has been removed from the PNM’s constitution as the party looks to revolutionise its approach to attracting votes.
“We’ve done all kinds of mad tings in the past,” a spokesman at Balisier House said yesterday.
“The public are looking for a much, much more boring approach these days. See all this shouting and screaming and waving and blaring out soca music when we come onstage? That kind ah ting is just chupidness. In England they visit agricultural projects and hospital wards. It’s a lot more awkward. There’s a lot more staid, uncharismatic repetition of key policy matters on local radio stations. I’ve literally never heard anybody call anybody else a thief. It’s quite remarkable. Exhilarating really.”
Reminded of the time when Britain’s deputy prime minister John Prescott punched a protester in the face in 2001, the spokesman replied, “But what the a-- is this? The man pelt an egg in Prescott’s face you know!”
It promises to be a fascinating election period.