Eye witnesses in the press gallery had PMQs as a Miliband walkover, but television – reality, that is – told a different story.
You can tile up a number of screens on top of BBC Parliament and watch – say – lesbian spanking porn while listening to Ed’s voice and you can try turning over the words “Prime Minister Miliband”.
And it’s true – he has an engaging private voice. It’s got texture. It’s got a second, lower register. He can easily, gently, get down there. “Down there where the money is,” as Bing Crosby, the crooning seducer, had it.
And when he uses this voice, as he did, to talk about the Paris massacres… To put it as strongly as possible: I don’t deny it’s not impossible to think of Miliband as a prime minister.
But before the lesbian delinquents had been properly corrected, Ed had finished with Islamic maniacs threatening our civilization and started in on the TV debates.
Face flying, finger working, eyes darting to and from his script, mouth ballooning, and the voice wailing up into the altosphere.
Prime Minister Miliband. Suddenly it’s like Unsinkable Ship. Something that’s impossible, and if it does happen, sinks.