Whalley Range, Manchester: John Grant Will Lose Badly

Out and about this morning with the dogs I came across the actually wretched and lonely, yet gurning and grinning has-been that is Cllr John Grant (Libdemologist). "Got your hands full?" he observed acutely. "Yes" said I, humouring the chuckling clown. "Are you looking forward to a life of leisure?" I enquired politely. "Not likelyNo way!" he responded ridiculously, "Ya nya ha ha ya nya ha ha ho" (manically).

The last time I saw him grinning and cackling so was on the Friday evening after the Iraq War's Shock and Awe began in March 2003. Standing on the anti-war vigil at the Whalley Hotel with his guilty feet rhythmlessly beating out a happy war dance. We didn't see him again on that weekly protest.

Instead he was off to lift and separate his disparate never-the-twain-shall-meet voters. Careful not to scare off the tactical Tories he had wooed for several years, he employed "Tariq" a Longsight taxi driver to whip up anti-Blair, anti-Labour hysteria with unofficial leaflets printed in their thousands, wilfully breaking PPERA rules, costing hundreds if not thousands of pounds, and without any P&P whatsoever. Tut tut.

Trained as a Doctor, nay a surgeon, Grant quit that to train as a Bishop, reaching the heady ranks of curate chaplain ... in a hospital naturally. He lost his vocation having failed to progress and begged the NHS to have him back but they said he was a useless old beery lump and would have to retrain.

Which he could not be arsed to do.

So he turned to politics. The rest is history. Relocating in mysterious circumstances from Sheffield where he had some said masterminded the rise of the yellow plague he immeidately became "local man, John Grant" and began the slog of pointing at potholes and dog poo.

Sufficiently so to steal several hundred Tory voters - far more of them than real Liberals - by 2001. But still in a distant second place as Labour romped to a massive mandate in a local government by-election coinciding with the general.

Fortuitously benefitting from a bloody nose for Blair in 2003 - at the expense of a bright eyed and bushy tailed anti-war left field Labourite* - he is finally about to meet his maker, Town Hall career wise. A five year career has run its course. Glittering glitches, jeering at community leaders, poo pooing Post Office saving successes, propping up bars, and wearing pantomime pink vicar costume to Council to boot.

Having managed to survive a de-selection attempt from Cllr Faraz "Buzz" Bhatti's crony Hussain he then lost those colleagues to the Tories, and with them the chance of a successful defence of his seat. But he's still cackling like a hyena ...

* I know, for I was that boy.