Mandelson. Peter Mandelson. Lord Peter Mandelson. Seriously? This man told you only a few days ago that he was ready to work for the Tories. And you give him a standing ovation? No one could seriously believe that this applause was actually in response to what Mandelson actually said. Click on that link, watch his speech, and find a single thing in it that isn't pathetic and creepy. It wasn't even a competent delivery, what with the off-timing, wierdo expressions and sudden squeaking noises. What you admired, delegates, what you whooped and cheered about, was Mandelson's reputation as an electoral tough guy. You probably despise everything about him, but given a moribund leadership and a looming election that looks like a date with Pol Pot and his merry henchmen, you'll cower behind any charlatan selling a bit of psephological black magic. You even laughed at his revolting in-jokes about how much he'd reduced politics to spin. You laughed, and you clapped it up. 'At last,' you thought, 'the Prince of Darkness! We've hated him and his kind for so long, but he can save us!' But it's all a cruel hoax, I'm afraid. Not only can't Mandelson save you, but the second he sees his chance he'll drop the lot of you like a ton of hot shit. Face facts, delegates: you've had it. You're about to get trampled by a bunch of spivvy public schoolboys who by rights should be watching their venture capital firms sink, not preparing to lead the country. And the sad thing is that when that does happen, and you're all lying face down in the mud, you will collectively sigh with your last breath: "Mandelson was right - we should have privatised the Royal Mail!"