Simple Politics

I attended a political philosophy conference recently. While keenly listening to the speaker's notes on Marxism and Rawls’ theory of justice I noticed quite an obvious divide in the Tudor Room of the Imperial hotel. Quite aptly on the left, I noticed the borderline psychotic Marxists who wore Dr Martin's and jean jackets with anti-governmental patches. They spent the conference reiterating phrases like "but surely the class divide is just as basic as it was when Marx was writing - the rich own the poor work." Alternatively they simply noted that any interpretation of Marx is far "too simplistic".
  
On the other side sat the "casual" Telegraph readers with their twig jackets and beige attire. They did not actively participate in debate, rather they smiled with condensation to every Marxist defence or slight joke about Cameron and co.
  
Having clearly administered the two sides I found myself wrongly sitting on the far right. I had missed the National Assembly in 1798, you see. The Marxists glanced at me with disgust. I then noticed my leather shoes and beige coloured frock coat. Having forgotten my "I hate capitalism” tattoo at my occupy St. Paul's tent I figured I'd prove them wrong in another way - I'd take part in the debate. I looked to the front and listened carefully to the point being made so I can participate. As I listened, however, my brain repeated obtrusively -"must offer a critique, must offer a critique". Having lost the trail of the speaker I turned to the window in search for an inspiration outside, but the only thing I found was my own reflection staring back at me with that familiar condescending smile. Well, I thought, what the hell. I took out my copy of The Daily Telegraph turned to the person beside me and said "So how much of a prick is Ed Miliband, huh?"