So the Tory Taliban under the Grand Mufti, Ayatollah Abu Rees Moggadon have officially declared Brexaria law. Speaking from his mountain retreat Moggadon, Lion of the dessert (nanny’s spotted dick is something to behold), made the following statement.
“It is with great joy that I pronounce Brexaria law as God made and therefore supersedes all else before it. The scholarly interpretation of the book of St Margaret is made by her representative on earth, Mullah Abu Carpet Burns, Great Inquisitor and Guardian of the Seas, gleaned out of his deep and learned study of her dinner parties and soirées. He is assisted by clairvoyant and soothsayer Oracle Madame Nadine , whose legendary visions are inspired by her perpetual suspension over hallucinogenic gases in the sacred grounds of the Bedford Poundland and her close study of the entrails of goats. The irrevocable and unappealable decision of the court has therefore been made namely: that the craven, bitter, disloyal apostates, Clarke, Heseltine and Major be deemed nodus totus pudendarum (a bunch of total cunts) and will be exiled to Brussels in perpetual communion with Juncker and his garlic breathing lickspittles after a brief spell of political education at the Bill Cash school of water boarding. A close study of his many speeches will be a requirement of their release and transportation "

Well, perhaps this is a bit of fake news. But the Brexiteers have a McCarthyite zeal to root out all vaguely pro EU thoughts. We haven’t quite got to the creation of the Ministry of Truth yet or even Think Crime, but we are on our way. All Major was saying was the bleeding obvious. A man who successfully negotiated a good deal for Britain and still bears the scars on his back from the Amish wing of the Tories who are now breeding to an alarming degree. Soon they will want to tear down monuments. And it won’t be long before some metric martyr dickweed will be demanding that we go back to the glorious days of Imperial measures. So who will raise this little beauty in the Commons? I bet it will be out of that pool of well known carpet biters like Peter Bone, Philip Davies or Andrew Brigden. A nation holds its breath.

I can understand why the mood music of the government is delusionally optimistic. We have to show those pesky Eurocrats that eating us for breakfast means eating us for Breakfast. But what if it all goes pear shaped? What if Britain is transformed into a 1950’s golf club where only the right sort of chaps are admitted? What if all the promises turn out to be a cracked tombstone in a graveyard of expectations? David Davis has sensibly warned that there is not too much we can do about immigration for many years. But what should send a shiver down our spines is the promise of a multi million pound IT system which will revolutionise border control. Has any government IT scheme not been a total shambles? Discuss.
And then there are the Kippers. What will happen to them? The answer is follow the money. Which means look carefully at the manoeuvres of Arron Banks. He is going to pull the plug and will stand against Carswell. Although politically Banks and I are on different planets I would rather go out for a drink with him than the other worldly Dr.Beaker. He will be having fevered discussions with Gavin Williamson whom I hope tells him to fuck off and spend more time with his tarantula. So UKIP is finished. Professor Sir Paul Nuttall VC is not so much of a busted flush as flushed down the Armitage Shanks. There will be a realignment of some sorts.

Now a word about Gerald Kaufman. A great man and a friend. I will never forget when we visited the maritime museum in Salem and listened with straightish faces as an eager intern waxed lyrical about an enormous ear trumpet on display. It was made out of a whale’s penis. But he gave me some wise advice when he knew that when I lost my seat I intended to be a newspaper columnist. “If you do, ensure that you use it to promote your friends and destroy your enemies”. I’ve done my best