This isn’t a hospital

Oh my God! What an idiot I’ve been. For weeks now I’ve been thinking I’m in an NHS hospital, but what sort of NHS hospital would keep someone in for weeks on end? These days you can have open-heart surgery in the morning and they’ll be trying to kick you out as a day case before teatime. Slowly the truth is dawning on me that all is not quite what it seems.

In fact, I don’t believe that I’m in a hospital at all. I think this is a detention centre for annoying journalists that’s been created in readiness for the General Election next year. I mean, think about it for a moment: a broken leg mysteriously taking months and months to heal, a window with only a brick wall for a view, being tied down to a bed 24 hours a day and fed execrable food.

Then there’s the chemical cosh delivered at 10.30 every night followed by regular tops up throughout the day. There’s not even a drop of alcohol in sight – an action that I’m sure counts as a ‘cruel and unusual punishment’ under the Geneva Convention, especially if you’re a journalist. Cars run on petrol, cows run on grass, and hacks run on booze. Without it, articles critical of the Government will not get written. This media holding pen is all part of an overarching plan to engineer a win for Gordon Brown by neutralising journalists likely to be hostile to the Government.

I sense the hand of the Prince of Darkness behind all of this. Mandelson is gearing up for the election and therefore as many libertarian journalists, troublemakers and general shit stirrers as possible need to be taken out of circulation before then. I’m just a low-grade guinea pig purely here to test the facilities before they bring in the heavyweights like Peston, Robinson and that blonde Scottish totty with the funny German-sounding name on BBC news. Let’s examine a few more facts, shall we? What about poor old Keith Waterhouse who popped his clogs last week? Think that was a coincidence? I don’t think so.

Slowly this section of the institution in which I’m incarcerated is going to fill up with journalists who have the potential to cause trouble when it comes to an election. One by one they will mysteriously be taken ill and placed in this special media isolation unit. In fact, I’m sure I saw someone who looked a lot like Peter Hitchens walk past my door just the other day. I’m also convinced that the room next to mine is being prepared for Richard Littlejohn – complete with padded walls.

I wonder what they’re going to do with the most troublesome journalists. No doubt the Paxman Wing is being finished right now, erected specifically for television journalists with attitude. Could there be a soundproof room especially for John Humphreys? Maybe there’ll be a torture chamber for Andrew Neil (perhaps Mandelson’s not so bad after all) and maybe a deluxe Dimbleby Suite with twin racks for the two brothers.

If my blogging suddenly comes to a halt you’ll know I’m on to something. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.