OF COURSE, the first thing you want to know is ‘Why agree to take part in this week’s BBC documentary which covered my relationship with Gordon Brown, Tony? Couldn’t you see that it made you look so oleaginous the camera make-up almost slid down your face?’
Yes, I will accept that it seemed all about self-promotion, that I am the Irn-Bru stain on the beige carpet that is politics in that I simply refuse to go away.
But that’s not the truth of it at all. This programme simply reminded the people of Great Britain that it was I, in fact, who was the Messiah in stone-washed jeans, the Prophet Antonio who was able to lead the Labour Party out of the darkness.
Okay, some commentators have argued that I was a carpetbagger, entirely clueless about politics. And I almost confirmed this fact by admitting exactly that when I told of walking into Westminster for the first time and thinking ‘Hallelujah. This load of grey-suited old twits could use a great rock guitarist frontman in stone-washed jeans like me, who’s all show and very little substance.’
But I refute that argument completely. Any bags, even since my days at Fettes, that I’ve ever owned have been strictly Louis Vuitton.
Yet, here’s where the documentary was right on the money. Did you notice that Douglas Alexander said that Gordon and I were, literally, the Lennon and McCartney of the Labour movement? Well, if you push aside the argument that Douglas doesn’t understand what ‘literally’ means, he was dead right.
Gordy and I worked in perfect harmony. We finished each other’s songs, so to speak. He was the Lennon, the political one and I was the dreamer, the more handsome McCartney. And at the end of the day we also couldn’t bear to be in the same room as each other.
Why was this the case? You know, too much has been made of this vague idea that I’d promised to step aside after two terms and give Brown owl the chance to fly to the top. But just because you say something to someone using actual words, and with a serious expression on your face shouldn’t be taken as an actual promise.
What? You want to ask me about the news story this week, which claimed that my wife and I avoided paying £312k in stamp duty when we bought a £6.5m London property.
All I can say is that my wife and I know very little of legal matters, although I do admit that when I was told we’d saved all that money through buying the offshore firm that owned the property my first thought was, ‘Slap me on the backside with a copy of Das Kapital, Cherie baby, we’re quids in!’
Yes, it’s a week when Universal Credit has been dumped, and I see why this may create a little irritation. But isn’t socialism wonderful when the concept can be easily appropriated by a star like me?