We have yet again a Prime Minister officially in charge who makes Britons feel ashamed every time he puts his foot into his mouth (which is every time he speaks), spreading despair, embarrassment and helpless rage nationwide.
Gordon Brown should just resign, resign because he cannot spell and cannot write legibly. He should resign because he can no longer lead the country and command any confidence from anyone at all.
Who is working for? Osama bin Laden? Hired specially to make us feel like the bunch of losers we are? Government on behalf of losers by even bigger losers?
I suppose Mrs Janes will be temporarily distracted from her grief by her anger and outrage at the way this country is being run and the way the war is being conducted.
The fact is that Brown is incompetent and no longer commands the confidence of his party and the country.
Good politics is not clinging to your position at all costs. In fact, it is better for your reputation to know when to go, just as if you were a guest at a party. Overstay your welcome too long and too often and you will never be asked back again.
The Sun is behaving in the way that you would expect The Sun to behave. It is going in for the kill.
It is all a dirty business, but somebody has to do it.
Brown can do nothing right and his advisers have all but abandoned him. Nobody told him that writing and spelling such as his was unacceptable in a Prime Minister. Nobody suggested topping and tailing his letters of condolence. Nobody told him not to call Mrs Janes because he would only have got the bollocking he did.
If they did and he ignored them, then that is evidence of the quality of his judgment and for that alone he should go.
Why did he even call Mrs Janes? The outcome, ie a predictably humiliating exchange recorded and transcribed not just for us, but for all the world to read, was only too predictable. Why did he do it to himself and why was he not prevented from showing himself up yet again?
If this were a bullfight, we must surely be tercio de muerte ("the third of death"). The estocada cannot now be far off now. Let us hope it is administered quickly and cleanly, by a brave and skilled matador. The Sun can only butcher people's reputations, after all. Lord Mandelson hoves into view, resplendent and graceful in his suit of lights, strutting around the ring, turning his back on the exhausted bull, cheered hysterically by the crowd ....
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