Image from British Labour Party
Government ministers in Britain should get out more. If they did, they would discover that the only place that looks like this is a Monsanto GM grain factory. Maybe that's the point. This is British Labour's idea of an appeal to voters. There will probably be an election in May, if anyone can be arsed to organise it. It would be a bit like being told you can have a twenty-first birthday party but you can only invite stinky uncle Pete who will shove you in a corner all night and lecture you on fiscal prudence and boring Neville from next door whose only interest is seventeenth century oast houses.
This poster is an invitation to such a party. Notice its little white logo - is that a railway arch? Mark Porter in one's beloved Guardian today says it looks like Sputnik or one of those World War 2 spiky bombs. I'm trying to imagine someone sitting at a computer and 'designing' this. Nope, sorry. It's beyond me. Clearly, it was dashed off between job applications. And the slogan - A future fair for all. What's that then? You get your own personal miniature Tomorrow's World diorama?
The curious thing about this poster is it doesn't have any people in it. It conjures up a tantalising brave new world of GM rape seed crops. I imagine they'd be easier to govern. Perhaps all the people have gone off to raise a barn or a loan from the IMF.
The other writing is a selection of 'pledges'. This is a quaint old Labour pre-election parlour game where some people sit around with one of those magnetic word sets and rearrange words on the Cabinet tearoom fridge until they're absolutely sure that they have something which makes no sense whatever in any language. It's the political equivalent of a concrete poem.
This is an election that no one seems to want to win. Labour are already de-mob happy, making opposition bench promises like getting rich people to pay taxes and halving the budget deficit. And David 'Webcam' Cameron has developed a bad case of understudyitis. Everyone's playing a misere hand with their last stack of matchsticks whilst trying to juggle pitches for consultancy posts in the private sector. It's The Producers but without the songs. There are Nazis though. The British National Party looks set to fill some of the void created by Labour's terminal decline and Tory stage fright. All it needs now is a soundtrack by The Sex Pistols.
While we're on the subject of you couldn't make it up - 'quality' British newspaper The Independent was sold last week to a former KGB agent for one pound. It's just how Ronald Reagan imagined but with newsprint instead of thermo-nuclear warheads. The once grand fourth estate of Fleet Street is well on its way to being carved up between the Moscow Bear and the Koala Kong. All it needs is a soundtrack by Frankie Goes to Hollywood.
You can get almost anything on e-Bay these days. Keep an eye out for the British Parliament. I might pay a quid for that, provided postage is included.