Category: Flounce

Reductio ad nauseam et absurdum

Imagine it’s one of Christina’s town meetings, redolent of popular meetings on the hill in ancient Athens. It’s government in action. We vote on municipal decisions, talk to friends, go shopping and feel involved in public affairs.

Yes, very democratic. Power wielded by the people. So should we give the town elders a bit more help by voting on the detailed implementation of decisions too? It might include a retrospective veto on a plan if we don’t like how it’s being carried out.

It is of course a recipe for administrative chaos. If an approved town plan can be un-approved, can it be re-approved too? Why not?

So, back in Westminster, could the barmy bremainers please wind their necks in and see how ridiculous they are. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us. It was high noon on 23rd June 2016 – and y’all lost. So do one.

 

French

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m as francophile as the next man. M. Hulot is a hero, Bardot an icon, Paris the real deal. But like so many good things France is badly served by its people when the chips are down.

Remember Charles Le Nez? He’s the fella who decamped to London when les Boches invaded and returned home when the last shots had been fired, declaring he was the saviour of France. But he was the only European who believed it.

And now, when France faces a formidable force of British brains in the Battle of Brexit, what do les Froches do? They puff themselves up and bring out their most horrifying weapon, so often deployed against British tourists: Non speakee Eenglish.

It’s just the French way. Such self-belief! So divorced from reality! You have to admire them – or do you?

Living in a dream world

That is the SNP’s new slogan. A world where men in skirts play their pipes untroubled by the cruel realities of GDP, the national debt, the cost of welfare and the absence of the Great Scotch Free Lunch.

And the Caviar Queen, unable to look over the towering Hadrian’s Wall – owing to her myopia amongst other little problems – has no doubt about the appeal of a future already mapped out by Greece. Except the crumbling EU will no longer throw good money after bad.

So one must as an Englander wish her well with her dream, removing from the rest of the UK the Great Caledonian Burden. Give her a new vote to defect, help her to win it, cast her adrift and breathe a sigh of relief.

What is going on?

English football is an enormous business, so why is it incapable of employing top people who have the talent to keep its house in order and control its excesses and self-destructive urges?

I’m afraid the answer lies in the boardrooms of the biggest clubs, which  pull the strings of the FA, ensuring it employs only second-raters who will not threaten their own PR needs.

No FTSE-100 company would have hired Woy or Sam as England manager. The hiring process would have exposed their weaknesses – Woy’s spinelessness, Sam’s cupidity.

So Alan Shearer is correct: English football is a laughing-stock. The corruption is only now beginning to be exposed – and I’ll whisper ‘drugs’, the next scandal to break. Mama mia!

Disingenuous

Obama with halo

So the UK was ‘wrong’ to vote for Brexit – according to Obama.

Setting aside the philosophical question whether a majority of a country’s citizens can be ‘wrong’ in any meaningful sense, maybe the sanctimonious President could answer this:

Would the USA join any club which suborned its sovereignty to the club’s management?

Would even the Democrats agree to the club deciding on US immigration?

Would the US fancy Juncker more than Trump or Clinton as its figurehead?

No no no, as I thought. Obama wins the headlines with his judgement but loses all credibility.

 

 

An old English custom

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Some of the meeja hacks are getting hot under their cyber collars about Cameron’s parting gestures to his loyal colleagues.  A K or two and a few MBEs. For people who, remember, had to work unreasonably long hours in old buildings whenever Dave and his Mrs needed them. And what else can a departing grandee do these days? He can’t sequester half of Yorkshire or the plate from a couple of monasteries on their behalf. And I wonder what Angela and le petit Hollande can do when they step down? The English honours system is very convenient, full of traditional meaning and cheap to implement. No, I’m afraid it’s raw envy that drives the criticism, and a persistent ignorance of The English Way of politics: it’s about Devil take the Hindmost. And none the worse for that.

Britannia at her glorious best

We have regrouped, dug in and manned our battle stations. A new PM, a determined House and a clear objective: Brexit.

All the Europrats can think about is sending the bill for  a budget infringement! Excuse us – we’re still subsidising the Euroflops.

So gawd ‘elp ’em – when they return from their hols.

Juncker again

This is the President of Europe! The EU’s public face!

Now he pokes petty jibes at BJ and NF for deserting the Brexit fold.

Why does he care – apart from the fact that he can’t handle criticism? Has he no dignity on behalf of ‘his’ institution? Does he imagine his childish behaviour will influence the negotiations in any way? Answers: no and yes!

He is clearly surplus to EU requirements – so how long will he survive? I forgot – it’s time for the interminable Continental holidays – so expect action in September.

Why?

Help me out here.

As far as I know, nobody has a good word for Tony Bliar – do they? Think British and foreign gubmints, the British Labour party, the unions, the ‘British establishment’, the Kremlin, the White House, etc. ad nauseam.

So why do the meeja continue to present his BS utterings as news? Who is pulling their strings?

To be clear: no, the UK does not wish too pay him megabucks to negotiate Brexit. No, we do not need him to explain how serious a matter it is.

And frankly, why does he still believe anybody wants to listen to him?

I blame the Vatican.