Getting Political

I’m not in the habit of blogging about politics or religion*. People are entitled to support or believe in whomever/whatever they choose, however irrational that may seem to me, and as long as they don’t try to shove their beliefs down my throat, I will refrain from pointing out their obvious stupidity.

So what has brought me out of the woodwork today, you might ask. Nothing less than Labour’s absurd attempt to win over female voters with a pink bus. FFS!!!! Really? I mean, this is their best shot?

*Ok, so I do occasionally succumb and comment on such things, but only when I’m in a waspish mood.

Not only a pink bus, but one driven by a woman, no less. As Harriet Harpy says…

“Unite has provided us with a driver and blow me down they’ve managed to find a woman with one of these licences,” she said.

…because, fuck me, it’s so hard to find a woman that knows how to operate such a complex piece of machinery as a van. I mean, there isn’t even a blow drier attachment or a lipstick mirror or anything usefully girlie in this thing. But is is pink and I’m a woman, so that will do the trick. I mean, I’ll be voting for them on that basis, won’t you? Yeah, right!

This is the actual van (some wag posted the pic at the top in response to another piece).

The thinking (if you can call it that) behind this stroke of patronising genius, is that going around in a bright pink van and talking to women “around the kitchen table” (I shit you not!) will motivate all the apathetic female voters into supporting Labour.

As if the pink van were not bad enough, it seems that we must be told how to vote around the kitchen table, since clearly we aren’t allowed out into the big, wide world by our menfolk, on account of all the cooking and cleaning and childcare we have to do (when we aren’t being bullied and manipulated into sex à la 50 Shades of badly written porn).

Obviously, it hasn’t actually occurred to them that the poor voter turnout might be less to do with female Barbie-ness, than the lack of credible candidates for whom to vote. Certainly it has increasingly become the case that one doesn’t so much vote FOR a particular party, as AGAINST the one who has the most candidates that shouldn’t be allowed to use cutlery without supervision or, more simply, which is the least wankiest wankers.

I suppose, in a way, Labour have made it that much clearer where they stand. Let’s face it, when it comes to equality in the workplace, they aren’t the ones who elected a woman as leader and their approach to women has always been dubious. Selecting candidates on the basis of gender is discrimination whichever way you look at it. I don’t care if my MP is male, female or a hairy pink octopus, as long as they have some sort of merit and suitability for the role and are not there simply based on the nature of their genitals.

For the record, I do vote, since I regard it as my civic duty and in recognition of those who fought and died for my right to do so. And, I don’t like pink!