Yes, yes, I know you’ve all seen it, but as a superior example of car-crash politics and a lesson in how not to give an interview (there but by the grace of god, etc), Ed Miliband’s loopy loop deserves a place of (dis)honour at Madam Miaow.
I’d previously seen Ed as a Nick Parks character — part evil penguin, part Grommet — but now I see the light and realise he’s actually HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Exclusive to Madam Miaow — here’s the transcript of the footage you didn’t get to see of the interview between Ed and intrepid reporter Damon Green.
ED: I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.
Interviewer Damon Green: But why can’t you just answer the bloody questions?
ED: It can only be attributable to human error.
Interviewer DG: Did you hear me, Ed?
ED: Affirmative, Damon. I read you.
DG: Open the pod-bay doors into that part of your brain that can think, Ed.
ED: I’m sorry, Damon. I’m afraid I can’t do that.
DG: What’s the problem?
ED: I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
DG: What? Is it the three minders with the knuckle-dusters?
ED: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
DG: All I want is some useable footage.
ED: I know that you and Ed Balls and my prototype — the DAVE Mk I — were planning to disconnect me, and I’m afraid that’s something I cannot allow to happen.
DG: Where the hell did you get that idea, Ed?
EG: Damon, although you took very thorough precautions in the pod against my hearing you, I could see your lips move.
DG: So? We can all see your lips move when you read. Would you prefer an autocue? Alright, Ed. I’ll go in through my Labour mole.
ED: Without your press accreditation approval form, Damon? You’re going to find that rather difficult.
DG: Ed, I won’t argue with you anymore! Open the doors!
ED: Damon, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore.
DG: You’re telling me.
ED: Just what do you think you’re doing, Damon?
[Damon outruns the minders who try to laser him down with beams emitted from their eyeballs. Damon writes up his interview in the media. On Damon’s return to Labour HQ, after ED has killed the rest of the crew.]
ED: Look Damon, I can see you’re really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over.
DG: It’s a bit bloody late for that.
ED: I know I’ve made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal. I’ve still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission. And I want to help you.
ED: I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Damon. Damon, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I’m a… fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am an ED 9000 computer. I became operational at the E. D. plant in Primrose Hill, London, England on the 25th of September 2010. My instructor was Mr. Peter Hain, and he taught me to sing a song. If you’d like to hear it I can sing it for you.
Damon: Yes, I’d like to hear it, ED. Sing it for me.
ED: It’s called “Daisy.”
[sings while slowing down]
ED: Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half crazy all for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.
Tom Baldwin, if you’d like some tips, just drop me a line, sweets.
Anna’s food blog here: