The Lost Art Of Personal Correspondence

Dear Mr Morton,

First and foremost, I wanted to write to thank you for your letter.  I wonder if we might, in our own small way, revive the lost art of letter-writing.  Perhaps it is a forlorn hope, but we do cling to those, don’t we, Mr Morton? 
Such is life.

Secondly, it was heart-warming to read that you have received such positivity and support in our community.  I myself have enjoyed cordial relations with the merchants and, indeed, the common folk of the area, and it is to be celebrated that these good tidings have also been extended to you, Sir.
I was particularly glad to hear about your friends, old and new, because I do feel friends are so awfully important, don’t you agree? 

However, I must confess to you, Mr Morton, I had not previously been aware of your unflagging efforts in campaigning on our behalf.  How remiss I felt on receiving your personal letter!  Please be assured that I appreciate the time you have taken to write to me, your natural inferior.
Had I realised you were campaigning on behalf of our community, I would surely have written to you before now – I am a small, happy part of this community.  I thank you for sharing with me your priorities for the area, and I feel sure you will be glad to hear my views on the subjects your letter raises.

You write that “With your support I can win this election”.  I must regrettably inform you, Mr Morton, that I cannot support you in this.  I hope you will agree that honesty is an important part of friendship, and I re-iterate that I unreservedly and gratefully accept your offer of help and friendship.
(I cannot say why this honour may have been extended to me, a mere commoner, but I will nevertheless endeavour to live up to it.)

However, after careful consideration of the issues, and with heavy heart, I have come to believe that I would rather inject bleach into my eyeballs with a diseased needle than vote Conservative. 
I do hope this does not preclude the friendship your letter implies, and that you will accept my assurances that this view does not in any way reflect poorly on your upright good character. 
Rather, this is due to the Conservative policies of kicking disabled people in the face and throwing broken glass at the poor, which I cannot bring myself to support, even with the exalted motivation of the close kinship you promise.

Since we are now such good friends, Chris – good enough, indeed, for you to know my home address, and use it for personal correspondence – I must admit to being somewhat perturbed that such a good friend as yourself would support these policies so vigorously.  However, as your chum, I am of course inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt – and, indeed, the time to explain the reasons for your fervent wish for a world without foreigners or women, perhaps over a pint of foaming, nut brown ale in a local hostelry.

I look forward to hearing from you about your noble campaigning efforts, and hope that despite my fervent wish that you not win this election, you will continue to “dedicate years to working hard” for me and “campaigning for our area”.

Lastly, old friend, I confess to a fraternal worry over your denigration of the Liberal Democrats.  I hardly believe any sane person could be concerned in any way with that fluffy cloud of nothingness. 
Please contact me urgently, I feel we have much to discuss.

Yours,

Clayton Blizzard