Home » Politics » No sex please, we’re Liberal Democrats

No sex please, we’re Liberal Democrats

The Liberal peer, Lord Rennard has reportedly been questioned by Police over allegations that he made ‘unwanted sexual advances’ to sophomores at conferences when he was party chairman.

There surely cannot be a politician standing who has never made an ‘unwanted sexual advance’ to someone at a party conference. Bonding and the release of sexual tensions are what party conferences are for. It’s a party, geddit? Did the police question John or Teddy Kennedy over their notorious behaviour at Democratic conventions? Ah no, ’twas different in those days.

The press has of course seized on the complaints as an excuse to berate poor Nick Clegg, who was probably not even party leader at the time, if he was even out of short trousers; why did he do nothing about it? What, and when, did he know? A shocked nation must be told!

The reason Rennard’s alleged ‘advances’ have caused such a furore, it seems to me, may be because he is visibly overweight and a bit creepy looking; he is said to have been overly persistent in his unwanted attentions, although there is no suggestion whatever that he actually got it out and put it in anyone’s drink for a laugh, or Tweeted ‘sexts’ of himself to total strangers he fancied.

I fear this is another one-up (perhaps not? Ed.) for the militant tendency of the feminist wing, the girlies who regard any kind of sexual interest from men as theoretical rape. Far be it from me to speculate on their motives or the root causes of paranoia, but isn’t lust normal human behaviour? Do we not all suffer from it occasionally? Can we not say we are grown-up enough to cope with it?

Had he been perhaps more slim, dashing and a war hero, like ‘Captain’ Paddy Ashdown,  I’m sure Rennard wouldn’t have had to waste his conference evenings lurking outside the elevators, popping-up everywhere hopefully, like a character in a Brian Rix farce, while giggling women fled from his sweaty clutches. It must have been humiliating for the poor chap. (This is all only in my imagination, you understand. Source: various press reports).

A final thought. I had no idea even that ‘making unwanted sexual advances’ was a criminal offence? I mean, how would anyone know their advances were unwanted, until they actually made one? And if no-one was able to make sexual advances ever, in case they turned out to be unwanted, if ‘no man e’er wooed fair maid’, the human race would have come to a juddering halt years ago. Maternity wards would have closed down everywhere, and the publishing business would be looking pretty salutary.

This litigious hoo-hah over any kind of complaint involving natural sexual behaviour between adults, however annoying it must be to be casually fancied for one’s tits and not for one’s first-class brain, out of which one is unsteadily climbing on a wonky ladder of Jaegerbombs, is becoming offensively ludicrous.* No-one is even remotely talking about rape or pederasty in this case.

A nation glued behind its twitching net curtains to forty-two channels of pornography on Sky and half a million internet videos of college girls being humped by Ukrainian truck drivers has somehow got itself into a dreadful pother over anyone who actually has or tries to have physical relations with anyone else.

It’s a peculiarly British hypocrisy.

The police must have far better things to do, than to investigate some long-dead complaint that a politician may have tentatively groped a junior colleague’s thigh in the lounge bar of some grim Midlands hotel, where everyone was semi-comatose after a day of bellicose but futile speeches, and was slapped down, merely because of a few too many grouse and Stilton suppers under his belt. It’s too absurd.

For, let’s face it, men do occasionally manage to score on these corporate occasions. Even your Uncle Bogler was not without the odd triumph. Okay, one. (We’re still in touch). And those hyperintelligent party chicks straight from university with their stockings and Blackberries must be a real turn-on.

Can you honestly blame ‘Fatty’ Rennard for trying? If, that is, he did try, which he says he didn’t?

What is the world coming to?

* I can reassure the ladies from bitter personal experience that it is equally distressing to be fancied for one’s large bank balance, country estate and Aston Martin Volante…
Postscriptum – January 2014
Seventeen-and-a-half judicial inquiries have finally concluded that while Lord Rennard’s behaviour was indeed reprehensible, and he should apologise to the women concerned, there was insufficient proof of their complaints to justify a criminal prosecution. Ah, the British genius for compromise!
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s