Posted by: Witch Doctor | May 2, 2009

SMILE! Or not.


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Once upon a time, when The Witch Doctor was a very young witch child, she was sent to The Dancing every Saturday morning. It was just called “The Dancing.” It was not “the dancing” that older girls go to. The Dancing was really quite a sophisticated dancing school although it was held in the bowling green hall at the other end of the park. Almost all the little girls where she stayed went there too. It was “the done thing.” That was because there wasn’t much else for the little girls to do in that part of the world on Saturday mornings.

Yes, The Witch Doctor can still ballet dance, tap dance, do an Irish Jig, the Highland Fling and the Sailor’s Hornpipe. At a push. This, you see, was a very serious little dancing school run by a whole family of dancers who passed down their skills from generation to generation to generation. This is how this family served this small community. They kept all the girls (and a smattering of boys) slim, fit and healthy. And their “deportment” was good. “Deportment” was considered to be very important in those days.

For a few months each year, Saturday afternoons were taken up as well as the mornings. This was in order to rehearse for “The Show.” It was always called “The Show.” It was never called a concert.

Come to think of it, what on earth did the bowlers do for a hall on Saturdays?

Anyway, there were many changes of costume required and the sewing machines scattered throughout this little community trundled along as fast as they could go for weeks on end.

The Witch Doctor’s mother even saved up to buy a sewing machine specifically for “The Show.” The day it arrived was a big event.

Here it is here, The Sewing Machine, being looked after with affection in its old age.


Note The Broomstick.

The Show was a very grand affair. It did not take place in a little village hall, a community call, a church hall, or a school. There were plenty of places The Show could have been held in the local community. Oh no!  This dancing family always took us into the spotlight of a grand theatre in the city centre. Indeed there was a proper spotlight, proper stage, proper scenery, proper dressing rooms, proper greasepaint, proper stage hands, (we called them roustabouts), proper wings.

Yes. The wings!

It was Gordon Brown’s recent appearance on You Tube that brought on all these fond reminiscences.

Thanks for the memory, Mr Brown.

Now, some people thought Mr Brown was quite dotty on this video. Others thought he had seriously lost his marbles.

This is not the case. If you had performed at “The Show” year after year, you would know that our Prime Minister was playing to “The Wings.”

Now, when The Witch Child was singing and dancing on this big city stage, like all the other children, she smiled incessantly. It was a false, stupid, inane, obedient smile because ALWAYS there was someone in the wings jumping up and down telling us to keep smiling.

Just like this. One on each side of the stage. All through The Show.


They thought the punters in the audience wanted us all to smile.

Maybe they did.  Or maybe they wanted to watch our feet dancing.

Now Mr Brown, it is clear to The Witch Doctor, that a woman just like this is in the wings trying to make you smile.

It is very difficult to smile all the time.

You are not good at it.

You can’t do it.

You are A Dour Scot.

And that’s that!

You can’t help it. You should just be what you are. There’s nothing wrong with that.

As long as you are sincerely dour!

Why are you obediently following the advice of all the spinners, the make-overers and the marketeers that you have employed using our money?

The “consultants.”

Come to think of it, why have you employed them at all using our money?

This behaviour is the antithesis of leadership.

You say you are going to continue using YouTube.

That is your decision in this free country of ours.

But if you do, first sack all the people in the wings. All of them. Save us some money.

Sit down when you talk.

Find yourself a nice desk and chair or something.

Maybe clasp your hands in front of you as if you are praying.

And for pity’s sake don’t smile!

If you want to convince us all we have a sane PM instead of one who has looped the loop!

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  1. […] cardigans from ripped out wool featured strongly in the evenings and of course, later on, there was The Sewing Machine. And stone hot water bottles. -“the rubber ones might burst and scald […]

  2. […] Gordon Brown is safe at least till the next election. Furthermore he seems to have ditched the silly image-makers in the wings and has assumed his own, dour, gravitas approach. He’s not smiling much and that is the way it […]

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