As regular readers (anyone...anyone...Bueller?) will know, I am not a fan of Simon Heffer. I think his sneering writing style unpleasant, his views predictable and often ridiculous - that John Redwood should be brought in as a more voter-friendly Shadow Chancellor than Osborne; that anyone who plays 20-20 cricket should be barred from Test matches etc - and his writing uninspiring. I'm sure this keeps him awake at nights.
Today's excrescence is about Heffer's old boss at the Spectator, Boris Johnson
He is pushy, he is thoughtless, he is indiscreet about his private life. None of this matters much to anyone these days, which is why he has gone so far in spite of them, and tomorrow may go further still. Lynton Crosby, the Australian public relations genius who has kept Mr Johnson out of trouble during his campaign, returns home after it. Then what? Who will guide the unguided missile? Who will support the figurehead? Who will ensure he turns up on time, or at all? How will they be accountable? Once, a man became mayor of Hartlepool dressed in a gorilla suit. Is what the main parties offer Londoners tomorrow any better? Or is London just a bit of a laugh?
No, it isn't. Both Labour and the Tories insult hard-pressed, overtaxed residents of London by failing to give them serious, strong-minded candidates to vote for tomorrow.
The rest of the article is similar - it's more or less a hatchet job. A thought does occur to me though. Has Heffer ever publicly acknowledged that it was he who wrote the infamous Spectator editorial on Ken Bigley, for which Boris was humiliatingly dragged up to Liverpool to apologise? Not the act of a gentleman, what?
Incidentally, this is reported in the Guardian
as Tory commentators turn on Johnson.
Heffer is no more a Tory than Polly Toynbee these days. He advocates voting for UKIP, and opposes every aspect of the Conservative Party. And good riddance, frankly.
Labels: Boris, Heffer, Media, politics