La Gloire

Ah, the Socialist Worker's lunch. As an old Tankie, rather than a Trot I couldn't help eye him with some suspicion. Besides, he'd got to Stanley Gimson's table before me. Those were the days. Actually I was hardly involved. Occasionally a 'Broad Left' would be formed but the fissiparous nature of the left would inevitably resurface and the comrades would settle back into their comfortably secure sectarian redoubts from where they could snipe, and occasionally sally forth to attempt some minor putsch such as securing the position of deputy chair of the disability rights committee. Sally forth. From the Old French apparently.