Whistling in the wind

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My late, dear departed, and much lamented, grandmother had a phrase or two for it. Phrases which sum up the behaviour of the increasingly desperate bunch of professional politicians, both right-wing and their pretendy left-wing friends across the chamber at Westminster.

Both are committed to a two party duopoly in the maintenance of their power, both are only interested in their own little internal party power struggles, to the extreme detriment of the future economic and cultural prosperity of the UK. Gran would have said of the likes of Boris Johnson, Gove or Big Snooty of the 18th century “ He’s a Blaw of Hell! He’s far too full of his ain self-importance” and she wouldn’t have been wrong.
 
The Downing Street Disco-Dancing and Robotic Repetitive Sound Machine Festival continues this week as frantic efforts are made, mainly involving turning over rocks to see what creeps out from underneath, to convince the extreme end of the Tory Party and some Norn Irn bigots and flute players (the ones who appear to be confused about what the bribe was actually for) that the option is somehow open to discard or amend any arrangements for the so-called backstop which helps protect the rights of the EU citizens who will remain in the part of the island of Ireland which isn’t included in the new isolationist mini-empire, ensures that the Good Friday Agreement isn’t about to be torn up which would result in the horrific mayhem of the past returning to the north of the island, and in fact gives Northern Ireland an economic advantage over countries like, em, Scotland.

This is an advantage which the self-flagellating unionist politicians of that part of Ireland would rather not have, preferring a Queen’s Jubilee tea towel and a bowler hat autographed by Prince William, signed “ Best wishes from King Billy to be” instead. Go figure.

Neither of these groups will take much convincing on the intended spirit of the proposal. The big problem will be convincing them that Theresa May and her ever growing band of Brexit Ministers, some of whom apparently who have only recently found out that they live on an island, can actually do what they say they can do, which they can’t and they won’t.
 
Somebody in the meedja asked those nice, but thoroughly confused, and now totally bewildered, people at the EU, sick to the back teeth of popcorn and prone to automatically turn their TV’s to the Le Peppa Pig Channel at the very mention of the word Brexit on their local news channels, what they thought about Britain coming back to them at this stage to amend the provisions of the backstop arrangement.

The reply, a resigned predicable and regretful, (and I paraphrase) ‘It’s the UK’s choice to leave, we would rather they stayed. We’ve finished the negotiation phase. The EU has accepted the arrangement Mrs May brought to us. Effectively Britain’s political chattering classes are chattering amongst themselves only, and for very little purpose’.

However, by the end of the week the BBC will be telling you that the complete disaster which Brexit is increasingly looking likely to be is somehow the EU’s fault.
 
Aye, Gran knew her stuff.
 
Scotland has a way out of this. Let’s do it. Let’s do it soon.

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