As Owen Paterson stews in his own Bisto (see the Slugger O’Toole exchanges for how it is seen outside the Westminster enclosure — and how Malcolm elucidates thereof), the good news of the evening is that John O’Farrell waves the scarlet banner high in the by-election.
It’s quite amazing how Louise Mensch (Desperate, New York City) and John Prescott (good old Labour, Hull) can both find something positive to say about the nomination. Prescott wins, by capturing the O’Farrell wit and wisdom — Malcolm always preened more party feathers in pubs and with cheap sherry than in GMCs or Labour Group meetings (which must be why the Corbynistas of Haringey and Malcolm never saw eye-to-eye).
With all due respect to the other two worthy candidates, it had to be O’Farrell and the modicum of national recognition he drags with him. For crying out loud, neither of the two front-runners, Tory and LibDem, look anything more than old nag in-a-fancy-lasagne-packet.