So hard in fact that the bottom has fallen out of his sense of personal dignity, sending Britain's favourite human-faced wonk plummeting from a highly-esteemed position at the pinaccle of centre-left politics and down, down into stygian depths of venality, moral turpitude and the magic sponge.
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| David? Is that you? |
Yes, I'm afraid David intends to trade his soul with the dark gods of football in a Faustian effort to revive his Cheyne-Stokin' fortunes. He's made unbidden overtures to Sunderland Football Club to explore the possibility of becoming that rabble's "public voice" around the world.
It's not such a leap, to be fair. As foreign secretary, "Brains", as he was known to party insiders, orchestrated and developed policy decisions that affected millions at home and abroad; his input was so highly regarded that it even extended beyond his explicit remit and into matters at the highest level of leadership; he even had steamy politisex with Hillary Clinton.
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| David? Is that you? |
As a spokesperson for Sunderland Football Club, he will be the "public voice" of an "institution" that has "nothing to say" about "anything at all". Because it amounts to little more than a highly exclusive leisure centre with spectator seating.
A natural transition - who could argue? Once he recovers from the ice-water shock of plunging from a world in which things matter into another where they don't, and once he learns to ignore the phantom limbs of power and importance that still tickle at their bleeding joints, I'm sure he'll find himself right at home.
Good luck, Dave! Back of the net!
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