So the wife of David Cameron, leader of Britain’s Conservative [laugh track] party, votes Labour. What a surprise!

It would be only a tad more newsworthy if David Cameron himself were found to have voted Labour. He has never had any life outside the media-political complex, and has never, to my knowledge, uttered, on any topic, any opinion that would raise an eyebrow in the left-liberal political class.

And that’s what Britain has now: a political class. The Managerial Revolution is complete, if not in quite the way Burnham predicted. Controlling the means of production doesn’t matter much in a country that doesn’t produce anything.

But they had not gone twenty yards when they stopped short. An uproar of voices was coming from the farmhouse. They rushed back and looked through the window again. Yes, a violent quarrel was in progress. There were shoutings, hangings on the table, sharp suspicious glances, furious denials. The source of the trouble appeared to be that Napoleon and Mr Pilkington had each played an ace of spades simultaneously.
Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again: but already it was impossible to say which was which.