am not sure what is more terrifying about Bozo, his interchangeable, multi dimensional views, or his complete lack of preparation. On Marr this morning he floundered over Aleppo and sank without trace over our role in targeting bombing sites for the Saudis in Yemen. The Foreign Office is a Rolls Royce operation who know how to brief their ministers with precision. It is now being driven by a Robin Reliant driver. Lack of intellect is not the problem, but sheer bloody laziness is unforgivable. His answers to Marr was like me at the despatch box pissed out of my skull at the Oxford Union. And I have done that a few times. But I am not the Foreign Secretary. I just tour the airwaves winding up the Brextards, not world leaders and their ambassadors. To watch him being cross examined by Keir Starmer was cringeworthy. He hadn’t a clue. Worse, he didn’t care. Crack a few jokes, wink at Andy and blunderbuss the viewers with vacuous sound bites is his modus operandi. The Foreign Office are in despair. Downing Street is in meltdown. They regularly brief against him. Cabinet ministers openly make jokes at his expense. The novelty act is over. He is a dangerous embarrassment. The Honey G of the cabinet who has not yet been given the boot. And he won’t be. Well, not just yet. Only when he ceases to be a serious threat to May. He was put there to fail. And at least at that he is a success. His foot mouth in history will be to explode in a mushroom cloud of glorious triviality.
I haven’t made my mind up as to whether May is a political genius or just bloody lucky. It doesn’t matter. Politics is achingly predictable. The experts warn us of the horrors of a hard Brexit. The Mail and the Express go ballistic. The judges interpret the law on triggering article 50. The Mail and the Express go intercontinental ballistic. But …….. there has been a change in tack. The only big beast on Brexit, David Davis, has read the runes. The punters, who may think Johnny Foreigner is nicking their jobs, wives, sisters and shagging the royal corgis don’t like the idea of their living standards plummeting. So deals will have to be done. I’m looking forward to a white Brexit.
But aren’t the Brexiteers shoved into cabinet simply because of their sheer awfulness just……..awful? Priti Patel must be a Stephen King creation. She still believes in the free movement of capital punishment. There is a chilling certainty that every time her arachnid mouth opens a baby dies.
And dear old Moggy? Yes, I know he’s not in the cabinet and never will be. But for someone who was once a national treasure the nation asks when he can be reburied. The poor fellow has gone tonto over Brexit.
But the May honeymoon is over. Richmond was horribly predictable. Sleaford less so. I predict a small Tory win. The tectonic plates are shifting. Farron may be a bit of a tit but don’t underestimate him. In the dreary backwaters of local government they have been making significant gains. And, dear God, don’t make the Tory mantra a warning that voting Lib Dem is a wasted vote. It isn’t. They made a good fist of responsible government. And Labour? Totally fucked……for the time being.
What will be interesting is the soft Brexit vote on the Tory back benches. They were terrified of their constituency associations. Now they will begin to wobble. Do I vote for article 50? The sensible answer is yes. But with strings attached. The strings are pretty simple. Some freedom of movement of workers (everyone forgets that’s what the Treaty of Rome says) and access to the single market.
Many years ago we at PUNCH predicted that David Davis would one day become Prime Minister. Alright, it was after a very refreshing lunch. But……I don’t think it will happen. On the other hand it could. Nevertheless, he is now a very big beast indeed. His alliance with May and Hammond? Top gear.