He's desperate, Dan
But Desperate Dan could not merely walk out. There had to be one last parting gesture, one last pointless act as he moaned off into the sunset. And so it has come to pass, as he has penned “Jeremy Corbyn has become the Left's Enoch Powell”, just to show all those who criticise him for being unable to sustain a half-credible political argument that he, er, cannot sustain a half-credible political argument.
There was no “interlocutor” in Powell stating “We must be mad, literally mad, as a nation to be permitting the annual inflow of some 50,000 dependants … It is like watching a nation busily engaged in heaping up its own funeral pyre. So insane are we that we actually permit unmarried persons to immigrate for the purpose of founding a family with spouses and fiancées whom they have never seen”.
There was no “interlocutor” in Powell claiming that anti-discrimination legislation used against the “indigenous population” would be like “throwing a match on to gunpowder”. Enoch Powell was not merely engaging with others: he was engaging in his own campaign of racist smears and alarmism. It says much about Dan Hodges’ desperation that he is prepared to make such a ridiculous and utterly wrong comparison.
Nor does Hodges do his cause any good by bleating “I voted for Ken against Labour. Does that make me a Tory too” when we already know he supported Boris Johnson against Livingstone, then embraced Lynton Crosby when Bozza won. It does not help him to whine “So what action would you take now to try to prevent Syrian children being murdered by Isis tomorrow” when dropping bombs would not stop that happening.
It's a bit of a cock up that he was actually allowed to rejoin the party, given the "support our aims" and "not support other parties" criteria. Or he could be making it up.
I can't remember who once pointed out apropos sex that once you took your clothes off and performed the wonderful act there were only two things left to do: (a) Get dressed again, or (b) Have a snooze.
But dear old Dan had no clothes in the first place......
As he fades into nothingness he can hear only raucous laughter at his exit. Perhaps Blair can help him out - he "earns" enough on the "lecture" and "advice" circuits.
He's a published author too, of fiction. A recent review of said book, in the Independent (or i), also placed those efforts somewhere adjacent to La-La land.
I bet it hurt to have to jump rather than be pushed.
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