That Corbyn fella...

Has he got a thread already?

The latest newspaper hateline from Liz Kendall has me wondering.... is this all reverse psychology, so we fall in love with Corbyn?

He likes cycling, right?

Yeah, but so does Boris.

He used to play bike polo... Allegedly... @snottyotter

http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2015/aug/12/could-you-build-new-part-of-the-left-labour-jeremy-corbyn

This was an interesting read, while not entirely about Corbyn, he is definitely a catalyst.

Yup, OG bike polo player before it was cool, I'll speak to his mate and see if he wants to play it after it was cool too.

Head gear of the left and famous.

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Saw footage on the telly of him on a bike with a monstrously high quill stem. Is he maybe "on here" lurking in the functional bikes thread?

Shame none of my bikes are funcional so I'll never know.

interesting that Kendall and Co's line to get elected seems to be "we're not what you want (which is Corbyn) but we're the best you can get, so vote for us". seems similar to the last general election message of "at least we're not as bad as the tories".

If all these senior Labour figures spent half as much time attacking the Tories as they are Corbyn, maybe Labour wouldn't be in such a dire position as they are now.

Having seen the effect their attacks of Corbyn have had, I think we know precisely why they're in such a dire position right now.

Ive paid £3 and will be voting for him. I have some reservations about him, and doubt he will ever become PM, but he is the only candidate who I think believes in what he/she says, rather than says what they think the papers/electorate want to hear.

Corbyn is bloody brilliant, imagine him backed by Stella Creasy, who seems genuinely interesting in campaigning for what's right and returning Labour to a movement with a purpose rather than a political party to the left of That Lot

Don't give a shit about his electability, I just want a leader who make me proud of my membership

@moocher
Why do you doubt he will ever become PM?
Anything wrong with his policies? Or himself as a person?

It seems like every other candidate is solely trying to undermine him now? smacks of desperation somewhat

#ichbincorbyn

I paid £3 and missed the voting registration deadline

Can I get my money back?

@Lebowski - neither himself or policies - i think the tabloids/new international papers would make it extremely difficult. but if he can get some of the people who never vote to vote for him maybe he has a chance.

It was a cold bright day in Jeztember, and the clocks were striking, in solidarity with the MiningBots, so I didn’t know the time.

I would be late, but knew better than to curse the strike aloud. They would be listening through the telescreen. If I was overheard, the TwitterBots would go into Outrage Mode and, unquestionably, I would be vaporised.

I pulled on my state-issued socks, buckled my People’s Sandals, and left hurriedly for work. I went by foot. Private cars are forbidden and the only public transport vehicle— the People’s Fixed-Gear Bike— is shared between the 20 million inhabitants of Equalitysberg (formerly ‘London’). It will be my turn to ride in about 80, 000 years, providing the Bike isn’t on strike that day. It almost certainly will be.

I work at the People’s Quantitative Easing Plant. Every day, we print millions in banknotes and give them to poor people, who are then immediately arrested for being too rich. As I arrived at my workstation, the telescreen was broadcasting BlairWatch: 24-hour live footage of the former Prime Minister and convicted war-criminal, pushing a boulder up a slope, with commentary from an increasingly exhausted and deranged Ant and Dec.

On the adjacent wall had been tacked a coloured poster depicting an enormous face: the face of a man of about seventy-five, with a wispy, grey beard and ruggedly handsome features. JEZ WE CAN, the caption beneath it ran.

After a few dull hours, the speakers began to blare out the National Song: a dubstep version of The Internationale by Billy Bragg, ft. Alt-J. It was lunchtime. I filed into the canteen, where I took my usual meal. My People’s Falafel Wrap was dry and tasteless, while my state-issued pear kept bursting into flames.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something stuck to the bottom of my Solidarity Sprite. It was a folded scrap of paper. I opened it furtively. It read:

Block 9, Sector 42. Tonight.

They had said it would happen this way: I’d been invited to join the Resistance. Beneath the table, I shredded the note, which was written on state-issued paper, swallowing the strips. They were dry and tasteless and kept bursting into flames.

A bloodshot eye peered at me through the letterbox. Its owner demanded the password: ‘aspiration’. A pause. Whispers. Then, with a clatter of bolts, chains and keys, the door opened a crack.

There stood Tristram Hunt. I knew his face from the ‘wanted’ posters, though three years in the underground had taken their toll. He wore an eyepatch, his cheek was scarred, and he hadn’t trimmed his state-issued beard— an arrestable offence.

Hunt led me down a staircase to a crowded bar-room, dimly lit by state-issued candles (these are dry and tasteless, but keep bursting into flames, which in this case is a plus). The air reeked of an evil-smelling liquor. I guessed it was the moonshine, brewed under Chelsea Bridge by the tramps— bankers, once— now long since taxed into destitution and madness.

The rabble diminished to a murmur. All eyes were on me as we moved through the room. I recognised Liz Kendall, her cyborg-hands dealing playing cards with lightning speed. She gave me a curt nod, exhaling a thick cloud of cigar smoke.

‘Who’s that?’

I nodded towards a figure wearing the torn remnants of a Savile Row suit, playing the Knife Game with a hunting blade.

‘That’s Chuka Umunna,’ whispered Hunt. ‘He’s been with us from the beginning.’

The man, Umunna, stared at me, and began to laugh maniacally, slowly drawing the knife across his palm. He licked the blood.

‘I warned you!’ he muttered, to no-one in particular. ‘I warned you all!’

Sitting at the bar was former Conservative MP, David Davis. His hunted, vacant stare marked him out as a man who had seen too much. Shortly after the 2020 election, the Tories had been banished to Toff Island (formerly ‘the Isle of Man’), to live out their days being hunted by a giant, genetically-engineered fox. Only Davis had escaped with his life; though not, they say, with his sanity.

Hunt took a spoon and tapped a state-issued glass for attention. When the flames had died down, he called the meeting to order…

^ would rep

tldr

#reppage

Why do you doubt he will ever become PM?

First up to become PM you need to be the head of the party with a majority. Labour are unlikely to make it into power with JC for at least two important reasons.

First, the majority of England decided back at the end of the seventies that they didn't want socialism. Labour only were elected once they rejected their socialist routes and moved just right of centre. I can't see how moving back to socialism is going to get them elected. (Even more so when you think of the importance of the grey vote who voted socialist policies out the first time and probably have more to lose).

Second, we never ever vote for parties when they are in a shambolic state. Labour's infighting is bad enough already to make them a nonstarter, JC will divide the party further and thus make it impossible for them to ever be elected. Ironically if they rallied behind him they might have more of a shot.

Personally I think it would be good to have a more left opposition. It will also mean we don't have to listen to the left whinging about Labour's move to the right when what they should do is what UKIP did to the Torys and set up their own party to steal votes and influence policy. (imo obvs)

I'd like Labour to become a left wing party once more, rather than a pale imitation of the Tories.

Be nice to have an actual alternative/viable opposition party.