CF generally likes to be proved right (and - owing to his bitter cynicism and mistrust - almost invariably is).
However, in the case of yesterday's post 'Gordon is Safe Now', CF very much wishes he had been competely, utterly fucking wrong.
But no, the post was tragically, bang on the money:
"Even the dumbest, most self-centred Labour MP can see that .. if Gordon stops - for any reason - being Prime Minister, then an election will be called shortly thereafter. An election that, unless CallMeDave is caught balls-deep in a Rohypnol'd Susan Boyle on the Queen Mother's grave , Labour has no fucking chance of winning.
"Every Labour MP will be thinking the same this morning. Why rebel, why resign dramatically, why go on TV to condemn McDoom when all that'll do is hasten my own personal trip to the wilderness?"
Clearly, that's pretty much what was going through the tiny, tiny, self-obsessed minds of the fuckwitted PLP last night, as they whooped, hollered, banged the desks and masturbated like crazy monkeys at the prospect of 12 more months of plasma TV's and property development.
And the cost to them of this extra year of troughin'? An extra year of Gordon, and then unemployment. As Mike Smithson at Politics Home puts it:
"..they are now lumbered with a leader who has almost none of the qualities that are required to win elections in the modern age - someone who is so unpopular that he gets booed when he attends veterans events like the D-Day celebrations"
But apparently that doesn't matter to these gibbering, desk-thumping, yelling morons. So now the-worst-PM-we've-ever-had has his feet well under the desk and likely to stay there until mid-2010. Fuck.
Does the fact that the public loathe him and his doings have no bearing? Of course it fucking doesn't. Get real.
We're living in a non-representative democracy: we can all choose which bus to get on, but the driver is under no obligation to go where he said he was going to or to tell us where he now intends to go instead or to let us off the bus when the scenery outside the window begins to look frightening and wrong and nothing like the destination we wanted.
The only thing we can do, as we crouch terrified in our seats, is shout at the driver, in a desperate attempt to remind him of what we, the paying fucking passengers, want from him. It's not much, and it probably won't work, but there's fuck all else to do.
So lets take all the energy and anger that's been directed at 'Getting Rid of Brown' and use it to make sure that he, and his spineless government, are very aware of exactly what we - their masters - want. Examine everything they say, object to everything they try to do, reject their lies and spin. Don't let the fuckers get away with anything.
Let's harass and chivvy, poke and prod, challenge and rebut this pathetic government until its last ragged breath. Let's focus a bit less on Guido's tittle-tattle, and a lot more on Old Holborn's fury, the Devil's rage and Mr Eugenide's righteous wrath.
Gordon, for the next year, you're not going to get - and you don't deserve - a moment's peace.