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The political asylum
This is a personal statement about the inescapable.
I voted Leave three years ago. I wasn’t influenced by that twat Boris, or by Nigel Phalange or anybody else. My vote wasn’t cast on economic grounds, or out of any personal financial motive. It was cast because I believe that the EU will eventually implode.
I didn’t vote against a continuing customs union with our European neighbours or against a future trading arrangement that makes them our principal partners. And I don’t give a single fuck about Arlene Foster (who the hell is she anyway in the great scheme of things?) and the Irish backstop.
I voted Leave, plain and simple, because I feel we should, but now I don’t care. I have been overcome. Any passion I have ever felt about the issue has been exhausted by the utter failure of our parliamentary system to cope with a situation that requires MPs to put national interest above self interest. I have been outraged by the slithering of Corbyn, a proven master of disloyalty, embarrassed by the Commons performance of Blackford, a clever man pretending to be an idiot, and driven to despair by the stupidity of a Prime Minister who was persuaded to throw away a working majority when it was entirely unnecessary, and now by her obduracy in continuing to hang her Norwegian Blue upside down in her shop window above a for sale sign. If Theresa May is a betting woman she is probably even now having a punt on Manchester United to win the FA Cup, even though they were knocked out in the last round.
The ultimate lunacy is that a General Election is being mooted as a way of sorting it all out.
This will copy on to Facebook as my blog posts do. I repeat, it is a personal statement. As they say on Twitter, my views are my own. So is my despair.
Murdock
www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-47670717
Amidst all the daft stuff coming out of Brussels, the Trump administration still leads in terms of howling craziness.
Why?
The Six Nations has enduring popularity and decades of tradition. It ain’t broke, but these guys want to change it. Why? For money. ‘**** off,’ would be an appropriate response, one that would be supported by the majority.
Wilt not
I do not believe that any author, satirist, or savant, not even the great Tom Sharpe at his most acerbic, could have produced a plot to mimic what is happening in our Parliament at the moment.
Watching our Prime Minister last night I was reminded of the verse in The Wild West Show, a song beloved of drunken students everywhere, about the mythical bird that flies in ever decreasing circles until it disappears up its own fundamental orifice, from which position of safety it hurls shit and derision upon its enemies below.
Theresa might not have disappeared yet, but any moment now.
Air rage!
Ever sat in front of that wheezy bastard on an aircraft, had him cough all over you for three hours and a day or two later you have what he gave you?
Of course you have.
Happened to me last Thursday. The bonus gift turned out to be a seriously sore throat from which I have not yet recovered.
So here’s my plan. A compulsory breath test for all passengers at the boarding gate. If it shows an airborne infection, you don’t fly.
Quintin Jardine's blog 