Glastonbury is nowadays a dull, corporatised affair, the place where middle aged advertising executives and public sector managers go to pretend that they are still as 'radical' and 'with it' as they were when they were 19 and once smoked a herbal cigarette at Live Aid. Even the (fairly limp) attempt by UKuncut to embarrass U2, was punctured by the festival security, determined to keep EavisWorld a safe place for tax dodgers.
The procession of the Bland was punctured by the discovery at 9 am sunday morning of the body of Christopher Shale, David Cameron's consituency chairman, in a portaloo in the exclusive VIP (ie pay for nothing) section of the site.
Although at the moment, this is not in the same class as other great 'dead tory' moments- Steven Millington is still all time champion on that score- the thought of him briefly surfacing for the third and final time before finally sinking beneath the feotid ocean of human faeces and urine, brings a certain song of joy to the heart.
once again: "Ha Ha Dead Tory!"
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