The real reason people hate Boris Johnson

It’s been a sombre few days in the wake of the Parsons Green terror attack. The aftermath of such incidents is always a tempestuous time with finger pointing and scapegoating coming into direct conflict with calls for solidarity. Basically it’s such a clusterfuck of narratives that there’s little chance for much else to break through the haze.

Which is precisely why many were curious as to the timing of Parliamentary Potato Boris Johnson’s article detailing his vision for Brexit. The responses to this piece were largely negative, ranging from his motives being scrutinised to some questioning Boris’ grasp on reality. 

Though there was support from one fellow aristocratic anachronism.

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Little known fact: Jacob Rees-Mogg uploads his tweets via telegram.

So far so predictable. Boris plunging his recently buffed shoe into an ominous mountain of faecal matter, quite possibly of his own making, is a regular occurrence and the reactions are often the same. Those possessing any semblance of scepticism will rip the limbs off his claims whilst his Etonian allies launch a staunch defence, all the while keeping a sharp blade close by in case a mutiny is required at short notice.

However, this time a rather idiosyncratic perspective emerged from the gloom courtesy of Daniel Hannan:

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From the same reliable mind that brought you “Absolutely nobody is talking about threatening our place in the single market.”

Certainly the nuanced position. So perverse you’d expect my reaction to be one of incredulity but, to my surprise, it triggered something – an epiphany if you will.

I’d always suspected that my intense loathing reserved for the bulbous bumblefuck was down to more practical reasons. You know, the sort of duplicitous shit that impacts people’s lives? That drives our nation down the gutter for the benefit of personal advancement? Like, I don’t know…spearheading a campaign that knowingly misled the electorate? I mean we all saw it. Boris standing front and centre, doling out deceit through the medium of charming buffoonery. Does it matter that he didn’t really believe it? That his support for Leave was entirely disingenuous?

To Boris it certainly doesn’t. After all, what place is there for integrity when you’re manoeuvring to ram a knife into the spine of one of your oldest friends? There’s no room for such outmoded notions of decency in Boris’ schedule, not when he’s got subterfuge on the brain. He needn’t worry about being held accountable to those he so gleefully deceived either. Instead, he can just slither off into the background the moment consequence rears its timely head.

You could be mistaken into thinking that this is the behaviour of a particularly nefarious piss weasel, willing to brazenly mislead the public he claimed to serve for his own benefit. Pretty deplorable shit, right?

But no, people hate him because he smiles a bit.

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Boris Johnson here, ploughing into a small child with a smile on his lips and a song in his heart.

In my naivety, I also fooled myself into thinking that perhaps his disputed competence could be the source of the unrelenting resentment towards Boris. It’s true that many of us are apathetic towards our jobs with this sometimes spilling over into outright ineptitude – but most of the jobsworth collective don’t find themselves winging it in a position of power and importance. Fucking up in Argos doesn’t tend to carry the same ramifications as fucking up as the Mayor of London for instance. Or fucking up as the Foreign Secretary. Or straight out fucking somebody you weren’t supposed to while on the Tory front bench. Naturally this sorry tale of staggering negligence is punctuated by his continued presence within influential government positions, poking the very concept of a meritocracy in the eye with every subsequent blunder.

You could be forgiven for considering this the employment pattern of a chancer, leaving the metaphorical motif of an indelible piss stain upon each establishment he degrades – all the while being enabled by his unscrupulous peers.

But no, he’s despised because he got stuck on a zip wire that one time.

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Should have just left the fucker there.

I could continue on with this rather rudimentary barrage of sarcasm but the point has been laboured enough. It does bring me onto one rather noteworthy point however.

When viewed in the broadest possible terms Hannan’s statement is demonstrably ludicrous but there is a tiny fragment of truth buried beneath the landfill of insanity. Whilst it’s certainly not the most prominent of factors, a fair portion of the ire towards Boris is indeed down to his jovial tomfoolery.

Curiously Hannan seems to posit this as fatuous reasoning but nothing could be further from the truth. This preposterous Etonian omnishambles is our Foreign Secretary. To nations around the globe he’s the face of Britain as a diplomatic entity. We don’t want him publishing limericks about a foreign leader rogering a goat. We don’t want him careening like a bequiffed boulder into a former German international footballer. We just want him to be good at his job.

Brexit has taken a gargantuan piss into our pool of friends. The Foreign Secretary will be one of the key players if we’re ever to win back approval and craft Britain into a respected and formidable entity once again.

If anyone thinks that this role can be reliably carried out by a gurning caricature who’s most prominent skill is an uncanny ability to piss off almost everyone then who am I to stop you?

I just hope you’re still laughing when it comes time to reap what Boris has sown.

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Time – The greatest threat to Brexit

It’s often said that “voting doesn’t matter, they’re all the bloody same”.

Whilst the merits of this point could be debated endlessly it’s fair to say that, from the apparent public perception at least, this is how the supposed false dichotomy of a Tory/Labour Brexit was viewed. Sure, when you get into the minutiae of the matter there are differences and distinctions but ultimately, there didn’t seem to be much nuance when it came to the most notable and contentious issue – namely single market membership.

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See?

Now you can pick at the validity of Corbyn’s quite possibly flawed interpretation of the single market easily enough but that’s somewhat besides the point. Labour’s Brexit plan didn’t include single market membership – that’s all you need to take away.

In recent days of course, that’s all changed:

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I originally had a headline screengrab from the Sun but then my nose started inexplicably bleeding.

Wow. Quite the difference, huh?

“But that’s just for a transitional period!” I hear you cry and whilst initially this is indeed the case, there’s one very significant factor hiding away amidst the details:

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Corbyn is a secret Brexiteer/Remainer/Satanist – delete as applicable.

Ah, so a sneaky bit of hope for us unreconciled Remainers, yeah? I mean sure, the article goes on to state that it all hinges on the EU agreeing to Labour’s terms (the likelihood of which I suspect is minimal) so it’s still a few continents away from being the golden ticket to remain.

Of course, that didn’t stop Nigel from popping a coronary – displaying indignant rage amusingly befitting of a man lumbered with a chronic lack of self awareness.

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“Pot? Kettle’s on the phone.”

In any case, a lot has been made of this. Are Labour now “Soft Brexit”? Or does the rabbit hole go even deeper and they’re trying to sneak a Brexit reversal via subterfuge? There’s all manner of theories flying through the ether but there’s at least a near universal synopsis emerging – a resounding distinction now exists between Labour and Tories when it comes to handling the acid smeared potato of Brexit.

The reaction has been varied with many a sceptical Remainer noting that, despite it being obviously more rational than the Tory’s lemming inspired proposals, it’ll still end up being a journey to an undesired destination – Brexit.

A fair point but don’t be giving up the good fight just yet, there’s still hope to be had from all this. It’s just that perhaps you’re looking for hope in the wrong location.

Take a look at the transitional proposal and ask yourself this – have you noticed that the closer to Remain a plan resides the more sense it seems to make? Further to this – ever picked up on the fact that the more time saunters by, the strength of Brexit dwindles? That what began as a roaring, rallying cry fuelled by fully leaded jingoism now finds itself in a state of perpetual decay, all the while being eroded by the scrutiny of time?

Time. That’s the concept we need to zero in on.

It all may seem very nebulous, as though you’re grasping at straws in a hurricane whilst wearing a blindfold, but the impact of time on the validity of Brexit cannot be understated. Take a peek at what mere hours did to the credibility of the Leave cause for instance. Even in their moment of greatest triumph, victory was significantly undermined before the new day had really begun. A revolution painted as the downtrodden majority rising up against the caviar sampling elitist establishment, seizing the reigns of power with that good, honest British bulldog spirit had already been cut off at the knees.

And, as with all wounded animals lying vulnerable whilst the vulture of reality circles overheard, they’ll do anything to avoid being exposed further.

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Calling a halt to debate – a Brexiteer’s instinctive defence mechanism.

They’ll hide, they’ll misdirect and they’ll attempt to shut you down so vociferously you begin to wonder as to whether the debate is even worth your effort. They’re acutely aware that longer Brexit is dragged out, the more time you’ll have to pick at their ideological corpse.

And that is exactly why you simply can’t allow yourself to be deterred. Pick at that rancid cadaver. Bite entire chunks out of it if you can, attacking it with everything you’ve got. Brexit is weakened and it’s deteriorating with each passing moment but it’s not dead yet. It’s still slithering towards the point of no return, stubbornly refusing to stare its desperate predicament square in the face.

You won’t ever convince the true, dyed in the wool Brexiteer. They’re far too ideologically entrenched by this point so don’t grow despondent when you inevitably fail to drag them from the mire. It doesn’t matter as they’re not your target demographic to begin with. As with all democratic swings, it’s the middle ground where the victory is eventually gained.

Your refutation of Nigel’s anti immigration rhetoric isn’t for the Brexiteer. It’s for the curious onlooker, passive up until this point and pondering which side of the fence to set foot upon. It’s for the Leave voter who cast their ballot in good faith, confident in the belief that breaking free from EU shackles would actually improve life for their family who now suspect they were swindled.

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Looks like Brexit – The Movie has come out with a director’s cut.

For with every debunked argument, for every changed mind a tiny battle is won – with the ever stumbling Brexit having its momentum further curtailed. Time is our greatest weapon but it must be utilised effectively.  Keep on fighting those seemingly insignificant skirmishes and convince people to join the cause.

Because with every extra set of eyes on guard duty, there’s less chance Brexiteers will pull off a Weekend at Bernie’s and smuggle the festering carcass of Brexit over the line.