'I've got the biggest chopper' — Blair

General Election noise reached an unprecedented crescendo this week, as the main party leaders squabbled over who has the biggest chopper. As the campaign got into full-swing, war-mongering US pimp Toby Blair said: "Look, lets be quite clear about this, I mean, what's important... is that my big red chopper is absolutely massive." Not to be outdone, cadaverous Thatcher throw-back Howard Michael was equally forthcoming: "My powerful pure-white mean-machine generates huge thrust and is not only bigger than Mr Blair's — for I can take at least 16 people at once — but its controls are far more responsive; I only have to jerk my knee and millions of voters are instantly satisfied."

Meanwhile, at the far end of the runway, still ponderously awaiting clearance for take-off, bumbling carrot-top Nigella Kennedy had his own unique take on the situation. Speaking through his solar-powered, carbon-neutral bird-man costume, the would-be high-flyer spoke confidently of his prospects "I'm certain to achieve high office — so long as I don't fly too close to The Sun..."

After only the first week of campaigning, many onlookers are already showing signs of election deafness. With so much political racket, conceited bluster and macho posturing, many readers will long for the quiet life, away from the Loud People; for somewhere with just a few hardy seabirds for company, and for the rhythmic timelessness of the sea... we hear the Call of Rockall! With this in mind, we present The Rockall Times' Manifesto For Quiet Folk: five better things to do than to vote on polling day:

1. Go outside very early, before the polls open, and stand outside your local polling station. Try to imagine the hustle and bustle as the steady stream of voters arrive to cast their ballots through the day. Before anyone sees you, go home again and make a cup of tea. Press home your advantage by NOT TELLING ANYONE.
2. Think about inventing a flexible yet discrete device for decisively removing earwax. When you've done this, carefully wrap the idea in a small piece of tissue and put it away in your socks drawer. When you're dead, your descendants may find it, market the idea and become rich, successful... and loud; alternatively, the Council Home Clearance Dept will simply tip the whole drawer into a skip, and your quiet idea will be deliciously lost for ever.
3. If a political person knocks at your door, open it, say nothing, and place your face close enough to their's for you to smell last night's mushroom biryani on their breath. Place your right index finger to your lips and say: "Ssshhhhhhh..."
4. Begin the monumental task of translating the Book of Genesis into Klingon. Someone will have to do it sooner or later, and if you can only make a start...
5. Whilst waiting in your usual corner of the bus shelter, try to devise a definitive cure for cancer. If you manage to think of one, say so quietly and only once at the precise moment the bus pulls up. No one will hear you above the diesel roar, and so with luck nobody will ever know. Close your eyes. Feel the power!

Having successfully completed all of the above (and don't forget you may find other kindred quiet folk doing the same things, in which case a shy smile may be in order, perhaps accompanied by a small nod) you will then be able to relax and watch as the loudies celebrate their facile victories.

For you will have accomplished that which they can only dream of: small, unremarkable successes at the local level, with minimum need for state intervention, at negligible cost to the taxpayer and — standing above all as proud & majestic as the Sacred Islet itself — in silence!

Previously

• Lib Dems wipe down their stain-resistant manifesto
• Conservatives will win next election: Official
• Elections to be scrapped as 'too competitive'