Despicable Them

27 June 2016

We live in strange and unprecedented times. The European Union is in chaos, a community of nations sailing through uncharted waters, legions of political commentators of all allegiances spitting feathers and praying that unfolding events slow down long enough soon to allow any opinion or report that is written to at least still be current ten minutes after it is published, and politicians all dashing around doing what they do best, looking after their own interests.

David Cameron, his political decisions in the past now proving to be as significant for the world of politics as Nick Leeson’s were a few years ago for the world’s financial markets, is trying to show a happy face for the cameras as he attempts to steady the ship with his soon to be former colleagues, the leaders of the remaining twenty seven members of EU, his chancellor, looking like he’s not seen much natural light for a while, trying desperately to renew confidence in Britain as being open for business, whilst not making much eye contact with the waiting press corp.

Meanwhile in the opposite corner the men with no plan go about the business of preparing for government and the chaotic future. This preparatory work at the moment seems to involve avoiding answering any direct questions when possible, and just bluffing their way out when cornered.

Boris Johnson has perfected coming out of buildings with his hands in his pockets,his head down, and quickly getting into fast cars that look like they are going somewhere important, where busy work is happening. He’s been dashing from one venue to another with the world’s media in hot pursuit, answering questions with only a daft grin and a sweep of his hair out of his eyes. He probably should make one of these venues he is charging off to a barbers.

His man Gove, who apparently is backing Boris to become the grand poobah, and is easily the least personable Scotsman ( I can’t believe he actually is Scottish) ever to walk through the Commons, and there have been a few candidates, Michael Forsyth to name but one, is still trying to appear credible. This even though his assertions before the referendum vote about his father’s unfortunate business failings in the north of Scotland occurring as a direct result of EU decisions were roundly dismissed as false by his self same paternal figure who made it clear in the media that his son was havering simply to create a false picture.

If Gove was to tell me that day followed night I’d get up early just to check.

Nigel Farage, the individual who appeals to the dangerous minority knuckle-dragging element of the leave vote, the ones that the vast majority of both leave and remain voters are ashamed of, seems to think that standing up in the European Parliament and making a speech insulting everybody else there is the way to go with regards to making friends and ensuring good future trading relationships with Britain’s neighbours. If Boris gets into power he may be wise to ensure that this clearly deluded character gets no nearer charge of anything more important than the Ministry of Silly Walks.

Currently the rightest of right wing heroes that is frightening me the most is John Redwood. This guy is cropping up all over the place, with his grey pallor, sharp features, scowling expression and determined attitude, like a villain from Harry Potter. Although, like George Osborne, he rarely looks questioners in the eye, he is putting up plausible arguments, appearing confident and still spouting forth on how wonderful the English NHS is going to be once it gets all that money back that the EU have been apparently stealing from the British people to fund wine festivals in the south of France.

This man is worth the watching, a former candidate for leadership during the John Major era, an opposer of lesbian and gay rights and same sex marriage, and an advocate of the death penalty (perhaps for benefit fraud).

Whilst scanning the news channels the other day I found myself watching him bizarrely appear in the back shot of the outside broadcast unit in front of the Houses of Parliament, scowl like a pantomime villain about to tie a damsel to a train line when he discovered he was wandering on to the wrong set, then dash across the screen as he headed for the next one to be interviewed.

The only thing more chilling than a torn face from this guy would be a smile, Have no doubts folks, this fellow is one of the one percent who sees the rest of us as means to make a profit, or a burden. The word conscience does not exist in their vocabulary.

Deep down I wonder whether these people really understand what it is they are unleashing on the people of the United Kingdom. What really hit home for me this morning was an interview on BBC World with a gentleman well into his 80’s, a Polish/ British citizen who has lived in London for 40 years, his parents having been in the Polish resistance fighting against the scourge of fascism in the 1940’s.

The old gent’s local Polish community hall has ben graffitied and vandalised by mindless racist thugs. Nearing the end of his time he now is able to recognise the early signs of the revival of a political environment similar to the sinister era of his childhood, a realisation which almost brought him to tears.

These Neanderthals fired up by Farage playing to the gallery at every possible opportunity would do well to consider that without the heroic efforts of Polish fighter pilots during the Battle of Britain they may have never ever had the freedom to express the hate filled bile that comes out of their mouth. They’d be better going back to just auditioning for Jeremy Kyle.

I don’t think the people of Scotland, Northern Ireland and the overwhelming majority of the people of England and Wales will let them get away with this for long. There will be a backlash. You can’t keep good people down.

Bóg błogosławi Polskę


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