Andrew Gimson – Sketch Writer Extraordinaire
Miriam Lord and Cathy Sheridan are not the only brilliant sketch writers.
Andrew Gimson in the Daily Telegraph is simply consistently stellar. There
is a twinkle in his eye and a skepticism in his uptake that is refreshing
and wonderful to read. Reading sketch writing is for me one of life’s real
pleasures. I simply love it. Some is deliciously naughty and the kneading
of language is wonderful to appreciate.
If you want to read fabulous prose
look at Andrew Gimson on the Telegraph website. Nobody in any of the other
London papers comes near. I enjoy the craic even though I would NEVER vote
Tory. If you want to read incisive witty quotes just read Oscar Wilde.
General Election 2010 sketch: George Galloway in his element on campaign
trail
Sketch: If there is one thing George Galloway cannot bear, it is to be
ignored, writes Andrew Gimson.
Published: 7:30AM BST 28 Apr 2010
George Galloway is a dangerously enjoyable politician. As we approached the
headquarters of Respect, the party he created when he fell out with Labour,
we warned ourselves not to be seduced by the oratory of the MP for Bethnal
Green and Bow, who is this time standing in the adjacent east London seat
of Limehouse and Poplar.
But gleaming in the sun outside his office stood a beautiful, red,
open-topped Routemaster bus. Like Boris Johnson, Mr Galloway knows that few
things raise the spirits so much as the chance to go for a ride on the top
deck of the finest bus ever to lumber through the streets of London.
There were going to be red and green balloons, tied to the rail round the
top of the bus. It is conceivable that Mr Galloway’s balloon will burst on
the night of May 6, leaving nothing but a shred of material on the
pavement. But how buoyant his campaign feels compared with those of the
prudent career politicians against whom he rebelled.
Mr Galloway arrived in a natty suit, smoking a cigar. According to Mr
Galloway, he has been wearing suits since the age of 15. We asked where
this one came from and he said it was from a shop called Retro.
So we were in the presence of a Retro politician: a man able to make an
unscrupulous appeal to our preference for old-fashioned clothes and
old-fashioned language.
To see whether Mr Galloway could also manage old-fashioned niceness, we put
it to him that Jim Fitzpatrick, the Labour MP he is hoping to defeat, is “a
decent fellow”.
“Yes,” Mr Galloway replied. “Apart from the fact that he voted for a war
that killed a million people. It kind of invalidates any other qualities. I
want to punish the people who voted for the war, one by one if necessary.”
There you have Mr Galloway’s ruthlessness: for him, politics is a blood
sport.
He has developed an amusing fantasy in which Labour is three seats short of
being able to form a government, and only Respect can provide those three
seats: “We’re part of the Labour movement. We’re the ghosts of Labour’s
past. We stand up for the things they used to stand up for.”
In a hung parliament, Mr Galloway’s gifts might come into their own: he is,
as the late, great Frank Johnson said, “a tremendous parliamentarian”. Many
Labour MPs loathe the renegade so much that they would doubtless prefer
David Cameron to win an outright majority.
The bus rumbled into life and set off down Commercial Street past
Hawksmoor’s great church. Mr Galloway stood at the front and addressed the
passers-by: “No more war. Bring the Army home. Spend the money here. That’s
what we say. How about you? George Galloway a big voice for the East End. A
big voice that can’t be ignored. A big voice that will speak up for you.”
Some passers-by managed to show the traditional British impassivity in the
face of any phenomenon which might prove embarrassing, and some made rude
gestures. But many others burst out laughing: Mr Galloway was doing what a
good politician should, and was cheering them up. Children loved the sight
of the bus and Mr Galloway was in his element, for if there is one thing he
cannot bear, it is to be ignored.