Your house is on fire. Flames everywhere. The Labour party show up and plan to tackle the flames by fanning them with newspaper initially as using water would cause more harm than good.
The Conservatives think this is crazy and tasked to douse the flames themselves claim they'd take a far more robust and direct approach, but can't explain exactly what they are until they have the figures for how hot the flames are and which areas of the house are most effected.
No one's called the Liberals so they're stood at the end of the street watching the house burn and criticising the other two parties while insisting that had they been in charge they'd have hosed the whole thing down with the finest coldest mineral waters of the Alps and made the country's richest earners foot the bill.
Meanwhile no one is actually doing anything and the house burns to the ground. I hereby declare this as a metaphor for the current economic state of affairs facing this country. The answer of course is for someone to just tell all three parties to fuck off and sort the problem out himself. Someone with a very bushy tash and a love of poodles. A dictator. It's all we have left. I want it on record that I have fore-warned we are heading for this eventuality.
The end.
(Yes I have been on the Night Nurse)
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