The Labour leadership contest is over - the people's poet Benjamin Zephyr Zodiac has endorsed Jeremy Corbyn

I phoned my close friend Benjamin Zephyr Zodiac (the world’s leading dub poet, in case you don’t live in North London) just last week to ask him who he was backing for Labour leader. “Chah! A wad di rass clot yuh a chat bout, maama man?” he responded. It was rather hard to hear him, as, once he had identified me to the large group of somewhat boisterous co-religionists with whom he chooses to seek spiritual enlightenment, they began shouting out friendly greetings to me, such as “To rass!”, “Him a play numba two!” and “Battyfish!” After I’d repeated my question, BZZ simply said, “Gunkona, bowcat,” and hung up.

I must admit to feeling somewhat disappointed. We on the progressive left have evidently reached an important juncture in our long march to inevitable victory, and it strikes me as vital that we now choose a leader capable of rapidly reversing the horrors currently being visited on the poor, disabled, LGBT, BME and terrorist communities by this deeply unpopular, divisive, vicious, fascist Tory government. I was rather hoping that Benji could see his way to adding his voice to that of my dear friend Russell Brand in coming out (as it were) for the only candidate capable of storming to power on a massive wave of popular support and civil unrest. Imagine the enormous sense of relief and gratitude I felt when I found the following magnificent polemic in my inbox this morning. It may just be the best thing the great man has ever written - and that's really saying something! Venceremos!

Bruddas rise up for Jeremy Corbyn.
His struggle for dis movement of ours is mos' absorbin'
De forces of represshun deride him as a nut job militant
Even as him now hold de key
To de Ark of de Socialist Covenant.

So who is dis man wid de views dat is beardy bonkas,
An' who gwan fe to give de Tories a kick in de conkas? 

Well, Jeremy kill no animal
Harm no man.
Him reject de meat
An' choose de organic cheese an' broccoli flan
A vegetarian, egalitarian,
A man of principle, so I n' I would say
Which live him life in de righteous way
Exceptin' when it come to de bill in de pubs down Islington way
Which him dodge by sayin' de forces of capitalist exploitashun mus' be made fe to pay
Or when him say de weasely words about de Islamicists, Anti-Semitics and Provisional IRA,
An invite dem to stay, an' have dem say,
When all de time dem trying to blow we away
An' quite possibly send dis Rasta's genitalia
Flyin' all de way to Australia.

An who is linin' oop fe to challenge dis Marxist Olympus?
Well Bruddas, it's a cavalcade of calumny, voiced in whispers an' whimpers.
Afear'd to trespass into de advancin' Burnham Wood,
Now dis Lady MacYvette fashion a barrel, as Coopers should
Which both jump into, hold on, struggle an sink down,
Into de unholy waters of dem lust for the crown,
Dem cannot let go, an' so must drown.

Leavin' some odd Blairy-eyed outsidah sistah, whom dem call Liz
With which dis Rasta would fo' shizzle nebbah out of preference do de biz.
While JC, him roll away de stone
An' resurrect himself fe to seize de Labour Party throne.
He is risen. Triumphant.
Let us be exultant.

De message is clear
Dis very year
Cast aside yo' fear,
De time of choice is near
"Jez we can", so de T n'T-shirts fe to say
Made in a Chinese sweatshop so me Socialist bruddas don' have so much to pay.

So let us therefore rise up.
Not since the days of Neil Pillock
Have we had dis same chance to climb the sheer face of de Capitalist hillock,
An' overcome de forces of repression
Above inflation Rizla prices, an' hate
An' ascend through de grey clouds of depression,
To de sunlit uplands of de Socialist State.

An t'ing.

Benjamin Zephyr Zodiac © Smashglobalcapitalisminc 2015