It is this time of the year that products with poor sales start to appear on shelves rebranded with desperate marketing slogans.

Bland foods suddenly get a revised recipe. Bland items suddenly boast a’revised recipe!’ or ‘newly enhanced flavours. However, customers rarely fall for this…

Sir Keir starmer, Labour’s Vision for 2022 was delivered yesterday in Birmingham. There were a few new glugs here and there, but it was not overwhelmingly so. But – let’s be honest – the sum of the ingredients still amounted to the same old Starmer.

It appears that no matter how many artificial flavourings or additives Labour’s leader uses, he is still as flavorful as week-old Cup-a-Soup.

It was a jaunty start, and he soon jumped on the platform shortly after 11am. He had his arms out, arms wide open, and an uncontrollable grin across his clean chops.

He exclaimed, beaming with the energy of a Las Vegas cabaret. However, the initial surge of energy didn’t last.

It seems that however many additives and artificial flavourings the Labour leader's spads pump him up with, he remains as flavoursome as a week-old Cup-a-Soup, writes Henry Deedes

Henry Deedes writes that despite all the artificial flavours and additives Labour’s leader uses to pump him up, he is still as flavorful as week-old Cup-a-Soup.

He was soon ranting about “skills councils” and “hubs of excellence”. Yawn. We all yawned. After insisting that he wants to celebrate the country we live, he then began to rattle off all the negative aspects.

Starmer was a lawyer and wanted to make a contract with British citizens. Uh-oh! The much-mocked Ed Miliband ‘Edstone!

The contract promised’security.prosperity.and respect.’ He assured us. After attempting to make a new slogan, he realized that he had forgotten the part about respect and needed to drink a lot of water in an effort to refresh his memories.

Not one, but two Union flags were displayed behind Sir Keir, likely to emphasize the fact that Labour is now a “patriotic” party. It was a strange thing to be an Opposition Leader, but this was just about marketing and repackaging. While he might have served once in the anti-establishment Jeremy Corbyn junta, yesterday Sir Keir became a reborn John Bull and heaped praises upon the Armed Forces while saluting the Queen.

Soon he was honking on about 'skills councils' and 'hubs of excellence'. Yawn. 'I was once the country's leading prosecutor,' he told us (not for the first time)

Soon, he began to rant about’skills committees’ and hubs of excellence. Yawn. He said, “I used to be the country’s most powerful prosecutor,” but not for the first.

One point, he reminded us all that Nato was founded under Labour PM Clement Attlee’s Post-War Government, which allowed us to purchase our nuclear deterrent. (Anyone passing the allotments in East Finchley at this point may have been perturbed by a deep crunching noise – fret not, that’ll have just have been old Jezza grinding his dentures into a fine dust.)

After declaring that slogans were not cutting it, he began to reel off the damned things quicker than a malfunctioning photocopier.

Sir Smartypants stated that Labour ‘isn’t a nationalist party, but a national party’. You can see what he did. He wanted Brexit to work.

He wanted the voters to be able to ‘the courage create a New Britain.’ That last sentence is straight out of the Blair playbook.

It felt more like a speech that was designed to please the sophisticated, well-dressed, and polo-necked people of Soho than it did the Midday Titlers from Old Labour’s heartlands. He demanded anti-vaxxers should be bailed out. Maybe he ought to get his legal buddies involved in dealing with Corbyn’s crazy brother Piers.

Yes. He believed Sir Tony Blair was worthy of the gong. Was he adamant that Boris would eventually be awarded one? Be realistic. Starmer is not just the most vile option, but even the Guardian chap asked for policies.

An ‘Alex from the local radio’ was summoned to answer a question. There was no response. He would probably have found something better to do in his morning than cleaning his tennis shoes. Most likely, he was just drifting off.

All in all, it felt like the sort of speech designed to delight the slick, polo-necked creatives in Soho's adland more than the midday tipplers in Old Labour heartlands

Overall, the speech felt like it was designed to be enjoyed by the smart, po-necked creators in Soho more than the midday drinkers in Old Labour heartlands.