Douglas Carswell Diary - The Road to Clacton Pier

It’s been quite a week! This time last Thursday, my knees were like jelly and my toes were all a flutter. Why? Because I was standing next to Nigel Farage. But also because I was about to land the biggest bombshell on the Westminster elite since a young chap called Charles the First rat-tat-a-tatted on the door to the Commons chamber in 1642 and demanded that the status quo be kept and even turned back a bit. (not the pop band Status Quo! They're not quite as old as that!)* Nobody forced me to resign.  I did it all by myself and tellingly NOBODY tried to stop me. You see I am really very tired of folk telling me that I am wrong and they are right and so I am going to prove them all wrong by proving that I am right, which I am by the way. Very, very right. As I walked with Nigel into the glare of the flashing lights from the Clacton and Frinton Gazette and a nice man from the Hertfordshire Mercury who had come down on the train especially, I had no idea that I would be quite so jolly busy!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This isn't all about Europe! It's about me! And the failure to achieve lasting reform that will turn the clock back to 1950. Here's the Conservative manifesto 1950 If you can bear to read it you will understand why I felt obliged to quit. Our promise to "provide adequate grants for village halls" has gone lamentably unfulfilled and the plan to cut pensions to "26 shillings a week" has been wholly ignored. Vote UKIP and we will top that up to 27 shillings and a night of Bingo twice a year.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've made some super new friends this week and (as always) it is the little things that count. I was walking through the streets of Clacton just a day after my defection, when a passing lorry driver hooted his horn and made a repeated "V" for victory gesture while shouting "Lucking Thank Ya" over and over again. Somebody else stopped me and insisted that I take a leaflet about "Seventh day Adventism" - it was the only thing this kind old lady seemed to have and the gesture meant so much to me. 

Thank you also for the lovely chocolates that were posted through our office door in an anonymous burning brown envelope! Delicious!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So a very busy first week. Remember only by voting UKIP will you secure the future of your loved ones. Clacton and Frinton has been totally swamped by immigrants - particularly in the recent summer months - with tales of day trippers coming from as far away as Southwold before realising they had taken a wrong turn. With your help we can ensure that nobody will  ever take a wrong turn again!

Dougie Carswell xxxx

* not that there's anything wrong with being old. Some of my oldest constituents are old.

Diary as told to Otto. No Douglas Carswell's were involved in the making of this blog.

The People's Army are coming! Get on board.

Remember WW2? OK I'll 'fess up - I don't (much too young!) but believe it or not The Dad's Army was and remains my favourite television programmes of the last 40 years.

World War Two was by any measure a wonderful time to be alive. Leaving the causes of the conflict and the deaths of 60 million people aside, during those dark years of 1939 to 1945 Britain was a happy place to be. Milkmen continued to deliver their milk despite the Zeppelin raids and people received telegrams informing them that their sons or sweethearts had been blown up into tiny little pieces with good old fashioned "stiff upper lips". 

Young children back then could play on bomb-sites without the "Health and Safety" police telling them not to and "gay" was a word that people like Noel Coward innocently used to describe how happy everybody was because "homosexuals" had yet to be invented.

Wartime, in short, was a blissful period in Britain. Perfect strangers would fall into conversations in air raid shelters, American servicemen gave each other chewing gum, eggs came in conveniently powdered form and Europe was a place we bombed or occasionally dropped secret service agents into - not the greatest threat to our way of life since the bubonic plague. How times change.

If Captain Mainwaring were still alive today he would no doubt be doing a lot of that thing he did where he took his peaked cap off and scratched his head. People mope about in tracksuits, Jihadis are running about the place being absolutely horrid and worst of all Europe thinks it has a right to tell us in Britain how powerful our vacuum cleaners should be. NO. NO. NO.

Why can't we be like we were in World War Two all the time? Why can't we rekindle that blitz spirit can-do attitude of Bletchley Park Code breaking, bouncing bombs and daring SOE raids on Dieppe?

Well guess what? We can. 

All of the major changes we need in this country, the reduction in immigrants, withdrawl from the EU, boosting our warship building industry, could all be solved by a six year conflict with Germany followed by a protracted period of Cold War. Take it from me. I studied history to Bachelor of Arts level at the University of the UEA.

Peace and prosperity has been an absolute disaster for Britain and it has nearly brought our warfilm industry to its knees. My moment has come. Yours can too if you join the People's Army today. Do it guys!

Satire: As told to Otto English - absolutely not by the real Douglas Carswell - far too well written for that - though I do say so myself.