The world is literally losing the plot.
The biggest and thickest ego in the western world, roaring, snorting, and tweeting like a canary on crack, is running headlong intae a clash of sweaty foreheads with the equally biggest ego east of the Finnish border, the owner of the weirdest haircut on the Korean Peninsula,who thinks he’s a living God, and Iran. What could possibly go wrong?
Meanwhile the leaders of the quickest growing population and economy on the planet, the one child policy now well and truly consigned to history, oh look there’s another city the size of New York getting built, and another, and another, are sitting back thinking, haud the bus, we’re going to have plenty room to expand soon, well in a hundred years or so, once the radiation clears a bit.
Whatever happens, in about twenty years time the word ‘superpower’ is going to be so yesterday, and minimal in comparison to the entity that China is going to become.
Back in the land of the 1950’s Boris Johnson has spent the last few days walking up and down the steps of a ticking-over 747,which, between the jet engines and Boris’s dissolving bowels, really hasn’t done much for the UK’s carbon footprint. Thank goodness global warming doesn’t exist anymore.
There with a briefcase attached to his wrist for the cameras, looking like the ghost of Boutros Boutros Ghali, Boris, a man for the times, standing ready at a moments notice, to swing into diplomatic action, shuttling back and forth between disagreeing warmongering powerhouses, an ambassador of hope and peace. Celestial beings save us!
There is no truth in the rumour that he nearly fainted with relief when word arrived from Downing Street that he was to stand down from his trip to Russia, the Cabinet Office having received a fax(on nice headed paper too) from the Mar-A-Lago Golf and Blackjack Resort in Palm Beach telling Theresa the Appeasa what her next move in international relations ( issue condemnation or threat, or explore potential business opportunity by any means necessary) will be.
Meanwhile it’s now been around 111 days ( the Falklands Conflict only took 74 and involved sending a Taskforce from one end of the world to the other) since the First Minister of Scotland presented the UK Government with a set of proposals designed to buffer the UK and / or Scotland from a hard Brexit. A consultative document requiring examination, consideration and, just out of common courtesy, acknowledgement. As far as I’m aware the Scottish Government are still waiting for any response at all from the UK’s Prime Minister, as will be the case in relation to the letter sent recently from Edinburgh seeking approval to implement a fundamental democratic decision made by the people of Scotland.
No, instead Theresa May likes to make her point in less than honourable, and perhaps some would say cowardly ways, utilising prerecorded statements via the British state’s media organ, or sending out her pet pantomime Scotsman, who has just returned from a whistle-stop tour of Burma telling the somewhat bemused Myanmar people emphatically that no-one wants another referendum, nobody wants it, no they don’t, and reassuring the Singaporean business community that they shouldn’t worry about Scottish rebellions interfering with any trade with London because his lot still have control of the oil, the whisky, the finances and the Tunnocks Teacakes.
Yes, Lord High Heid Yin Mundell enthusiastically told the good people of Singapore, a former British colony,now, according to the IMF World Outlook in January 2017, amongst the top ten richest economies in the world, that nothing good ever comes from trying to leave the Mother Country, before treating them to a somewhat flat, and poorly received, solo chorus of ” Rule Britannia.’
You know, they can’t even be bothered to treat us with contempt. We’re not even on the radar of the arrogant Empire 2.0 Project, apart from being considered as the resource which will pay for it.
Scotland is going to be so much better as an independent country.