Debating the big issues

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Jeremy awoke and debated, should he turn over and have another 10 minutes?

No.

Best to be up and at his new job.

He couldn’t afford to oversleep and run the risk of missing other debates.

He rose.

Dress – smart or casual?

He debated. Casual.

He couldn’t be seen to be playing spin politics.

This was new politics. Old, like his speech, but new at the same time.

Sort of.

Breakfast – cereal or toast?

He debated.

Toast won, but it was a close thing.

Transport – cycle or chauffeur-driven cab, kindly provided by the comrades.

He debated.

Tricky one.

Cycle; more man of the people.

Arriving at his party’s headquarters, he was greeted by the usual gathering of the press.

Acknowledge or ignore?

He debated.

Acknowledge. Play them at their own game.

“God,” thought Jeremy, “being leader of Her Majesty’s Opposition is harder than I thought.”

He briefly wondered if he should hold a debate on whether God actually existed.

No, he would save that for another time.

That was a big debate.

Having got through his ordeal, he sat at his desk and wondered if it was all worthwhile.

Debatable.

Davy Rutter,

Collingwood Road,

Hartlepool.