Never trust an older brother

So the votes have been cast, the preferences re-allocated, the percentages added up, the brothers (and sisters) of the Unions, including those that vote Tory, have been added up. And the younger brother has beaten the older brother again. It is Micromiliband that has won, vanquishing Megamiliband. And the whole country struggles to remember which was which.

It's the old story. Abel's offering was acceptable, while Cain's was rejected. Isaac has a close shave, but Ishmael is sent into the desert.  Jacob gets the blessing while Esau gets the soup. Reuben loses his rights while Judah produces a line of kings. The elvenfolk head to the Gray Havens while the sons of men inherit Middle Earth.  And so history repeats itself. The younger is victorious, the elder licks his wounds.

But many of those elder brethren had a sting in the tail. Cain killed Abel, Ishmael's descendants have hung on for 3000 years, the people of Edom were alway likely to rise up out of their caves and cause some aggro to the Children of Israel. Best keep your eyes open for an elven invasion, I reckon.  And Micromiliband better watch his back.

For myself, I'm pleased to discover that my own brother is still locked in the attic despite the changes of ownership. Even though apparently a few of the Serbs went missing at the time of the full moon. Mrs Rochester seems quite sanguine about it. Says he's got to get his exercise occasionally.