Farewell John Prescott

And so farewell, Brother Prescott of the two Jags (and the two jabs, the two shags, but the no principles).

Lyrical will the pundits wax on your decades of contribution to the labour movement. The way you gave working-class credibility to New Labour by having a regional accent and having worked on a ship for about five years nearly half a century ago.

Much tribute they will pay to your bettering yourself by going to college, whilst no doubt omitting to mention your pulling up the ladder behind you by voting for tuition fees.

And oh how humorous it will be to recall you thumping that protester fellow. And sly but still tangible will be the admiration and surprise that you attracted the sexual attention of two women.

Little will be said of your string of betrayals of the working class whose credibility you apparently gave to Blair's project to drive that class out of politics altogether. No mention will be made of your support for anti-trade union laws, your refusal to bring the railways back into public ownership, your siding with the government against the firefighters, your support for war. That even your own union eventually made you walk the plank and evicted your son from the union-owned flat that you'd stashed him in.

From me, it's goodbye and good bloody riddance. Mind you, I will miss the amusing 'two Jags' column in Off The Rails.