Plus ça change

So... it's official. The date of the next General Election is to be May 6th. And while the Prime Minister may have termed it the least best-kept secret, the plain fact is that he's so close to the end of his five-year term in office he was fast running out of dates to choose from.

I shall cast my vote: I've done so ever since I got a vote in 1969 (when the voting age was still 21) because I happen to think unless you do you have very little moral right to complain afterwards if you don't like the outcome. I can't work up a great deal of enthusiasm, all the same. I remember some elections in the past with some character to them (and real characters in them) - and I stayed up half the night watching the results come in. All the present politicians come across to me as rather bland and colourless: there's no-one who's charismatic enough to inspire me with a vision of a future that I really, really want to be a part of.

Which puts me in mind of the old 'acid test' saying: "Would you buy a used car off this salesman?" I wouldn't buy so much as a bike off any of 'em!