A Christmas defection in the air

Westminster's Christmas party season kicks off with a bash hosted by Labour party Chairman Charles Clarke...and an impassioned appeal to let a thousand flowers bloom.

He asks the assembled lobby hacks to give politicians the room to have debates on policy without turning every nuance into a screaming headline about "splits".

This could be personal, given that the chairman's every recent public word has been seen as a reproach to the chancellor.

It is true that he has tried to be more relaxed when for years now ministers have shied away from saying anything too interesting for fear of their musings being turned into a front page story about "gaffes" and "challenge to the leadership".

But it is also true that New Labour wrote the book on how to have a whole party singing from the same pager message and how to answer a series of thoughtful questions with the same contrived soundbite.

If I've read Clarke right, he wants to end the era of the patrol of the Millbank thought-police, and build a world where even cabinet ministers can think aloud about their own private policy preferences while still backing the government's (different) line.

So how would you turn that into a tasty front page story?

"Clarke slams New Labour's control freaks"...and bet the first paragraph will call it an attack on the Chancellor...

But no glasnost over in the House of Commons where Labour whips, old or new, borrowed or blue, have long been known for their vigorous approach to fellow members.

Rumours are rife that there'll soon be the first ever defection from New Labour to the Liberal Democrats.

I've no idea whether it will actually happen or not but if it does it won't be over policy or personalities so much as bullying.

The Labour MP Kennedy's men would like to lure was chatting to a group of them when one of the Labour whips beckoned him in a none too friendly manner saying "Leave your Lib Dem mates and come here".

The MP pointedly ignored them and I hear his comrades' brusque behaviour might be the final straw.

Watch out life - art has reached its verdict.

David Blunkett is determined to do battle with the judges over their decision to declare fines on lorry drivers carrying illegal immigrants "unlawful".

He thinks it just the latest example of judges overstepping the mark and trying to do the proper job of politicians: that is to make policy.

He should note with alarm the new big BBC One drama "Judge Deed" has a central theme that would have been unthinkable just a few years ago.

In it, the judge is not a wigged old fool asking "Who are the Beatles?" but a dynamic protector of the little man and woman against the underhand machinations of politicians.

Indeed, in the drama the words "It's political" are always uttered with the sort of grimace that in my house go with the phrase "It's cat sick".

Why was Speaker Martin chortling in the chair the other day?

Certainly not at Tim Collins' inparliamentary (and indeed frankly gastropodist) description of Stephen Byers as a snail leaving a trail all the way to Number 10.

No, what tickled Mick was a sneak preview of an early draft of a large scale cartoon of Lady Thatcher.

In it, she's depicted not as the Iron Lady but the Stone One.

As argument rages over whether the statue of a still-living politician should be allowed in the member's entrance, the cartoonist imagines what might happen: a gigantic and ferocious Thatcher looms over frightened MPs sternly wagging a stony finger.

Never mind the statue, where is this work of art going to end up?

I am troubled. A fire-breathing horse made out of wire meshing is being ridden by a zombie dressed in an ambulance crew's uniform.

It creakily rears up, gusting flames onto a ventriloquist's dummy type model of Gordon Brown, wearing a dinner jacket with sequinned lapels.

Not a drug addled nightmare but real life outside of the House of Commons: part of a TUC demonstration about public services.

I know, like Twin Peaks, the lack of obvious translation for the symbols is going to bother me for ages. Do even apocalyptic horses breath fire?

Is it now "War", " Famine", " Disease" and "Insufficient capacity despite increased funding out of general taxation"?

And most worrying of all, why the sequins?

Last week I reported that fellow spin doctors felt Jo Moore "infected" the news story about Railtrack.

Now we know Alligator Campbell thinks she "contaminated" Gordon Brown's statement.

Advice for Ms Moore: when your closest colleagues start talking about you as if you're an envelope full of anthrax maybe it is time to take the hint.

Or nervously await a visit from Number 10's equivalent of men in sealed white suits.