You wonder where I been? I been gone for a while!

The words of Daryl McDaniels from Can I Get It Yo, track 3 on the seminal Run DMC album Down With The King. Mind you, in the same tune he also says, "Back to attack the wick-wick-wack. Me, Daryl Mac. Suckers on my ball sac!" So, y'know, I'm not sure how much store one can put by his statements. I have, however, been on hiatus for a period of time. 

Writing a novel.

A cross between Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Robert Tressell's The Ragged-Trousered Philanthropists: weaving the overtly political into the surreally comedic, because, kids, there is truth in art. Which is why Shakespeare rocks so hard and still resonates through the veil of five (count 'em) centuries.

Here's a f'r'instance: Coriolanus. A lesser known of the tragedies in Bill's canon, the character of Caius Marcius Coriolanus (the flawed warrior who tries being a politician because his Mum thinks it's a good idea), is so one-dimensional he doesn't even get a soliloquy like Hamlet or Macbeth.

I struggled getting through it when I read this play as a youngster. I found the politics of the piece baffling, but it taught me a new word which described the group of people Coriolanus so despised;

You common cry of curs, whose breath I hate
As reek a’th’rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men
That do corrupt my air—I banish you!

The word, of course, is "Plebeian" and it's been bandied about recently as flagrantly as an empty Lib Dem promise: the Chief Whip accidentally giving voice to the contempt Tories feel for ordinary people, as if their divisive policies weren't clue enough. When Gideon cut taxes for the rich in the 2012 budget the acceleration of inequality was plain for all to see. It is projected that by 2015 at least half a million more children will fall below the official poverty threshold. The young, women and the poorest have taken the brunt of the Coalition cuts. Andrew Mitchell denies he used the words attributed to him, which is good enough for Our Dave to draw a line underneath this episode. Or at least try.

The irony is we're supposed to feel sympathy for the target of Mr Mitchell's ire, namely the police. The very same chaps who altered statements to cover themselves over Hillsborough, shot and killed Mark Duggan and instigated a "gangster" narrative to muddy the waters and ensure that we all came to the conclusion that he was asking for it. They fed the media the story that Mark Duggan shot at them first, was out-gunned and died as a result. As evidence they cited the fact that a bullet lodged in a police radio. At first we were told Duggan was responsible, before it became clear that the bullet belonged to the officers themselves.

The legendary rock band, Spinal Tap, summarised this precise situation best in their description of two business managers who meet in a hotel lobby*.

When two liars lie so much they just cancel each other out.

A plague o' both your houses.

* from the DVD commentary of This Is Spinal Tap possibly the greatest movie commentary of all time.