What Is A Blairite?
I had seriously underestimated the Blairite problem in Labour since joining the party a year ago to help kick them out. You manage to get rid of one and then suddenly someone you previously thought was cool, attacks Jeremy in the MSM and outs themself as a Blairite in the process. That’s when you realise Blairism is a disease, not a political pursasion. It’s like whack-a-mole out here.
But how do you spot one in the wild? When they’re not talking about taking pleasure in the Iraq War or NHS privitisation, what makes them tick?
Blairites have a low sensory threshold, but they don’t feel actual shame. They’re incapable of producing emotional responses to art. They fantasise about missionary sex and complain about missing out on Coldplay tickets. Ask them a direct question about their views and they’ll get back to you with an answer in a few weeks after they’ve conducted a series of focus groups. They shop at Next.
Blairites eat to survive, but don’t enjoy the taste of exciting food. They like the taste of gravy and really savour it. They slowly wash it round their mouths when they think nobody is watching, like an alcoholic at a free wine tasting. They like ferries. They were deputy head boy or deputy head girl at school and still think about how close they came to glory.
Blairites choose their political party affiliations like a casual sports fan chooses theirs. It’s all handshakes and drinks down at the bar with their opponents if they lose. They pore over details and minutiae. They conduct experiments on ‘key messaging’ like a laboratorist prodding a light deprived rat to see how it reacts. They’ll fight a good, yet passionless fight. They spellcheck their text messages.
Blairites don’t actually dream, their brains produce floating geometric shapes and ambient lounge music when they sleep. They wonder why they don’t see as many hot air balloons as they used to (a good point to be fair, anyone know?). They like Scandanavian crime dramas. They write cliche-ridden tributes to loved ones on Facebook. They like documentaries about planning permission.
