For Jeremy Hardy (1961-2019)
by Christopher Norris
The only way you can ever accuse a Conservative of hypocrisy is if they walk past a homeless person without kicking him in the face.
It seems a shallow observation, but . . . . the Tory Conference are not an attractive lot, are they? I mean, if all those people were born in the same village, you’d blame pollution, wouldn’t you?
- Jeremy Hardy
Every so often you'd go off on one,
Some comic spree, some rant untamed
By tact or prudence, but allowed to run
Its course unchecked and shrewdly aimed
At all the follies, lies, good deeds undone
And bad deeds done, the crooks unnamed,
Campaigns of race-hate in the Mail or Sun,
The rich made richer, paupers blamed
For being poor in column-inches spun
By Tory rogues, the famous famed
For infamy, the press reforms begun
Then swiftly dropped, the guiltless framed
While swindlers celebrate a tax-case won
With tax-man help, and those you lamed
Or skewered with a word-cartoonist's pun
That left their public image maimed
And them unable to enjoy the fun
Through witlessness or brain inflamed
By their long pent-up rage at all those un-
Kind taunts for crimes they still disclaimed.
There's bad guys still, but after you there's none
So sure they won't be mocked and shamed,
Caught bloody-handed with a smoking gun,
Or by some Hardy-jest out-gamed.
Christopher Norris is Distinguished Research Professor in Philosophy at the University of Cardiff. He is the author of more than thirty books on aspects of philosophy, politics, literature, the history of ideas, and music.