We would never normally stoop so low as to celebrate someone's defeat but, in one case, we are prepared to make an exception. As they say, 'Don't let the door hit you on the way out!'
There is one thing I shall miss about him: the fact that, according to in the conventions of headline-speak, his utterances are all reported thus...
Labour not anti-business - Balls
or
Balls - Labour Government will 'balance the books'
...and somehow I find myself mentally adding an invisible exclamation mark of disbelief each time. I admit it may be somewhat below the belt to poke fun at a chap's name but you have to agree that there has been a rich vein of satire to be mined here.
Given his previous appearances in this blog, there is, of course, only one possible victory song today...
As Labour takes a drubbing in every counting hall, Let's raise a toast to seeing Brown's old enforcer fall And cheer as Morley suffers the unkindest cut of all; Who'd have believed it? Labour have lost their Balls!
Of all the points for discussion raised by Ed Balls' Magic Porridge Pot pledge to 'balance the books' by 2020 while reducing the national debt, my favourite is the fact that, according to in the conventions of headline-speak, his utterances are reported thus...
Labour not anti-business - Balls
or
Balls - Labour Government will 'balance the books'
...and somehow I find myself mentally adding an invisible exclamation mark of disbelief each time.
I admit it may be somewhat below the belt to poke fun at a chap's name - though in this case I'm prepared to make an exception - but you have to admit there is a rich vein of satire to be mined here.
We have, of course, already celebrated him in song back in the days when he was Education Secretary - sorry, 'Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families'; it's not New Labour without a touchy-feely title - and doing such a good job that many of those who entered secondary school during his tenure now 'cannot write properly, add up or even wear appropriate clothes for work'.
Apparently this is damaging Britain's hopes of economic recovery, which gives an interesting irony to the grand schemes he unveiled this week.
I think it's time for a reprise (with apologies to The Who):
He walks onto the platform and gazes round the hall "I promise you," he tells them, "That we can have it all; A healthy budget surplus while Britain's borrowing falls." And this man's behind it; it's got to be pure Balls!
In the midst of the cuts and austerity of the new regime, George Osborne's come up with a cunning wheeze to save money at the Treasury.
He's planning to sublet office space to other Government departments; Treasury sources say that the building is currently being “under utilised” and there is room for up to 500 extra staff to move in.
It's all breathtakingly simple. To achieve this 'workplace optimisation', the 1700 staff already in residence will be given smaller desks and have to sit closer together to take up less room.
It's hardly a new tactic - after all, the NHS has been moving beds closer together for years, and the advent of round table seating allowed schools to cram far more pupils into the classroom. It was only in Government offices that there was room for green glass peace pods and massage rooms.
So what's new is that this is leading from the top - Whitehall suffering the same inconveniences as the rest of us in the interests of economy. There's plenty of scope: they could move Ed Balls' old department into the Treasury and let out his spectacular office suite for a fortune.
With the Government leading by example, there's no excuse for local authority profligacy and overspending. Who knows, we might even see County Halls following suit - if they consolidated their operations, it would free up plenty of prime office space for hard-pressed local businesses.
And, what's more, with desks closer together it'll be far easier to see who's not pulling their weight - we could even see an increase in efficiency (though I, for one, am not holding my breath).
With apologies to Val Doonican (I know, I know, but sometimes these things just happen, OK?).
Now New Labour had a leader who wasn’t much admired,
When they lost the election he had to be retired;
They obviously needed someone to take his place,
And so the curtain rises on the Labour leader race.
Shyly, slyly, first comes David Miliband,
“If no one else runs, I’ve got it in the bag”.
The forthright Blairite doesn’t have it all in hand,
His brother makes a challenge and the starter drops his flag.
So there’s Diane Abbott, Ed and David Miliband
Burnham, McDonnell and don’t forget Ed Balls
Lined up in the starting gate while all of us anticipate
The backbiting and bitching till the last one falls.
They’re in the public eye again, hoping we’re espying 'em
Winking, blinking and jostling for place,
No hope of dispersing ‘em though everybody’s cursing ‘em;
The runners in the forthcoming Labour leader Race.
Now Balls he is a tough guy, never known to flinch,
And neither of the Milibands is going to give an inch;
McDonnell, he’s the sort who would grab you round the throat
And shake you like he did the Mace to try and get your vote,
Andy Burnham’s lined up with the rest of 'em,
Please forget he left some papers on a train!
Meanwhile Diane thinks that she’s the best of 'em -
Surely no one wants a middle-aged white male again!
So there’s Diane Abbott, Ed and David Miliband
Burnham, McDonnell and don’t forget Ed Balls,
All ready to debate, to bluster and pontificate
In Parliament and studios and draughty halls;
It makes them all feel liverish to know they’ve lost their privilege
Liberals and Tories are sitting in their place;
European unity, care in the community,
All to be debated in the Labour leader race.
A party with no leader, a cabinet with a grudge,
When Gordon faced the cliff edge, who was it gave the nudge?
Gone is any semblance of Party unity;
Like ferrets in a sack all they can do is disagree.
Close advisors, spin and cod psychology,
Each one worked up, ready for the fight,
Fired up, wired up, and without apology
Constituents go hang while they're campaigning day and night.
So there’s Diane Abbott, Ed and David Miliband
Burnham, McDonnell and don’t forget Ed Balls,
There’s no use in complaining, they’re occupied campaigning;
All else falls by the wayside when ambition calls,
But look! Another rider, a total rank outsider,
Is scheming, dreaming of the winning place;
The bookmakers will rub their eyes at the Labour Party's suicide
The day that Glenys Kinnock wins the Labour leader race.
Like the aftermath of a Las Vegas wedding, today will doubtless see some interesting scenes in 10 Downing Street as the newly-hitched couple start to find out about each other's intimate habits*, but spare a thought** for those former Cabinet Ministers now consigned to the wilderness of opposition...
Persumably there's nothing now to stop hats being thrown into the ring; given the backbiting and infighting (h/t and farewell LFAT) of which Labour's top brass have shown themselves capable, a leadership campaign should provide us with hours of entertainment in the months to come.
*The Urchin has been idly speculating on whether Clegg ought to have a bedsit on the top floor, or possibly a Thursday-to-Sunday timeshare, in consideration of his party's contribution.
Ed Balls has had another tantrum: Ann Treneman in the Times describes an undignified exchange between him and Michael Gove over the number of children receiving free school meals who then go on to Oxbridge.
"What both should have been concentrating on was the life chances of children with free school meals. But this basic point was entirely missed."
Sadly that's inevitable when education is in the hands of a career politician.
Every weekday you’ll see young boys,
Playing truant in the mall;
There’s a minister whose job it is
To educate them all.
But initiatives proliferate;
Attendance figures fall
And guess who’s behind it... Surely you mean Ed Balls.
His fingers on the switches
In the Downing street machine,
He employed McBride and Whelan
To keep his own hands clean.
Some slight intimidation
And Brown’s opponents fall
And guess who’s behind it ... Surely you mean Ed Balls.
He thinks he’s a wizard
Of spin and hype and twist.
But Brown’s pet lizard
Could go and not be missed
Why do you think he does it?
We all know
He’s up to no good.
He plays the man of action,
He’s got Gordon in his spell
So was it Eddie’s faction
That unleashed the force of hell?
Things were getting sticky
Though Alistair stood tall
And guess who's behind it... Surely you mean Ed Balls.
'There’s no class war
The policy’s the thing'
But it seems our Ed’s
Got lots of mud to sling.
With his feet under the table
He’s aiming for the best.
He climbed up through the Treasury
And now he wants the rest.
He's crazy with ambition;
One day Brown will fall,
And who’ll be behind him? Surely you mean Ed Balls.
Update: A follow-up to the exchange with Michael Gove courtesy of Guido Fawkes. Enjoy.
Following Greg Hands' account of the attempt by a member of Ed Balls' staff to keep him out of the school in his constituency where Balls and the Prime Minister were holding court. H/T to Plato Says for providing inspiration.
(In an ambitious leap of imagination, you will have to imagine that the tenor voice belongs to Ms Izzet.)
I’d like to go in – No, you can just stay outside;
They’re about to begin – You're out of the way outside
I know you’ve got Balls – It's private; didn't you get our calls?
And Brown in there – D’you know what? I really just don’t care!
People here voted for me – You know, you're starting to bore me;
I’m acting well within my rights – Are you looking for a fight?
It must be because I’m a Tory – Oh yeah? That old story!
You could be a bit more polite – If you piss off I just might, you never know...
Please get out of my way – No, you can just stay out there,
I can’t stand here all day – You’re out of the way out there
This chat really is –And you’re not coming in;
Going nowhere – Don’t blame me if you think it’s not fair.
I’m calling the Council Leader – Oh yeah?I’ll get Ed Balls out here
I think you’ll find the law’s on my side – Or even Damian McBride
You can’t just make me wait here – If you don’t do what I tell you
And stay outside.
The BBC’s very own news timewarp - reporting events still in the future – has been discussed before in the Tavern and elsewhere (h/t Blognor Regis) but, oblivious to criticism, they continue to offend, serving as the organ of choice for pre-emptive government leaks.
This morning, with a complete lack of irony, we were treated to a digest of an announcement Ed Balls will make next week. Next week! Not only does the man leak details of his dastardly plans before announcing them to Parliament (h/t Witterings fromWitney); he and his minions are now predicting what will happen three days hence.
The diktat from whatever the spin doctors are calling Balls’ outfit these days – the Department for Children, ASBOS and Junk Food, or something – may well have been drafted, but who’s to say Balls will actually make the speech? After all, he might be late for the meeting, stuck in traffic or suffering from food poisoning*.
The BBC’s confident assertion that Balls will make the announcement in person looks to me like a prediction of future events. Tavern regulars, mindful of the Vagrancy Act (Any person who pretends or professes to tell fortunes ....shall be guilty of an offence. ), wonder about this; after all, we know that the Today presenters have their palms liberally crossed with silver for broadcasting this stuff.
Perhaps, though, we'll forgive them on this occasion: the demise of the literacy and numeracy strategy, 'delivered' by jargonmeisters Capita (I picture it arriving in a series of cumbersome crates), and the resulting liberation of Primary Schools to adapt their teaching to the needs of pupils is a welcome development indeed.
*Please note this is neither a threat nor a suggestion; merely an hypothesis.
Macheath, the notorious highwayman, has retired from a life of crime and can now be found behind the bar of Peachum's Tavern, favourite haunt of the rakes, rogues and vagabonds of 18th century Newgate and setting of 'The Beggars' Opera'. Visitors are always welcome; help yourself to a virtual tankard of ale and read on...
