How Will the Ash Cloud of Death Effect the Election?

How will the Ash Cloud of Death Effect the Election? Because it will.
What could the killer volcano question be on Thursday night's debate?
'Can you name the volcano?' That would be a start for Foreign Affairs Nite.
The first to competently pronounce Eyjafjallajökull will gain enormous respect. I suppose they're all practising in front of mirrors now, otherwise the massed Simon Cowells beyond the cameras will shake their heads in tired old-pro resignation, and call:
'Next!'
It might be tempting for the deflated Spudface Cameron to appeal to the Old Duffer vote, who have been ranting online in the last few days about how the country has no guts, and how it's all a sinister conspiracy by the Elf'n'Safety Brigade of the Nanny State.
In the good old days when men were men they'd have just fixed a pair of stout military tights (W.A.A.Fs for the use of) over the engine intakes and barrelled that kite over the White Cliffs of Dover like a partridge in season.
Dammit, all of civilisation runs on someone's blood. Without 1,000s of road deaths a year, there would be no supermarkets, and riots in the streets. And the Nanny State worries about a few hundred possible deaths in the air. This isn't the spirit which beat the Frogs at Waterloo or the krauts on the beaches of Normandy.
etc etc etc.
The professional hacks have moved in on the game, spewing out doublethink by the yard, all amounting to the samne thing. It's the Millenium Bug all over again!
A load of namby-pamby stuff and nonsense. In their day they would have donned their goggles and white scarves and ploughed intrepidly through the bit of dust, while others quivered like white mice in their shadow. Mercenary Onanism of the highest order.
Rightist Nutter extraordinaire Alain de Botton has naturally joined in:

"In a future world without aeroplanes, children would gather at the feet of old men and hear tales of strange flying machines..."

and hear tales of Noggin the Nog, and his heroic deeds in the land of the far north.
Gimme a break please. Romancifiers like Botton never miss a chance to stuff their version of the past down the throat of the present.
If he were to seriously apply his imagination more to a future without Consumerist Free Market Worship, then he would be doing his job as a philosopher. But as a devotee of the free market, this would make his head explode. Just as it did to those who always condemned powered flight as blasphemous. Botton would have been one of the loudest crying: 'If God had meant us to fly he would have given us wings.'
Ultimately, what he might as well say is 'imagine a world without the vote, where sage old men who had proved themselves in battle, took all the major decisions on behalf of everyone, who were then 'liberated' to enjoy their lives.' Ultimately, like Rabid Littlejohn yesterday, he can go Eyjafjallajökull himself.
Brown, of course, just has to play a straight hand, and he's almost home to a famous draw. 
Meanwhile, the conspiracies run to fantasy. The eruption is Iceland's Revenge for losing the credit war. The Icelandic PM on Newsnight was like having a visit from The Boys.

"Now about our little arrangement over the banks. You have a very nice civil flight industry. Shame if it were to get all clogged up and grounded. Clogged up with - oo
Now can you think of anywhere that might cause that kind of trouble?... If you can, let us know and we'll do our best to see that any problems go away. If you're reasonable about our credit arrangement...." I dunno - some kind of ASH. Maybe even VOLCANIC ash, blown thousands of feet into the air by some huge natural force.

They've never got over losing (or winning) the Cod War. Either way, they want to make us pay for making them pay back what they owe your local council, and the rest of us are left praying to Woden or Odin or Wotan to not plunge us back into recession. I blame that Click Negg. Until he opened his mouth everything was fine. The gods were offended by his overturning the political applecart.
So will that be the tactics of the Browneron on thursday? Blame it on the boy. They could do worse. It won't be the worst joke we hear all campaign, it's just a matter of who gets in first.
Watch this space.