As a relieved nation still celebrates its release from the iron clutches of a monstrous dictator, Marina Hyde, in the Guardian, provides a pithy valedictory:
Whether Gordon can technically go to ground again when he has been to ground for over a year is a conundrum, but what a knot of contradictions this quarry is. The author of a book on courage who bottled the election-that-wasn’t, the pious minister’s son who amassed the most lethal army of attack henchmen in contemporary politics, the self-styled grassroots politician who appears entirely uninterested in even turning up to parliament to represent the people who elected him. And now, he is the career control freak who has apparently become so laissez faire that he takes no material issue with any of the damning accounts, content to allow history to be his judge (good luck with that one, and all that).
“…Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away”.