Tag Archives: theresa may

Dominic Raab and Theresa’s Cabinet of Misfit Toys

Anyone watch Peston last night? I sure did, though I possess nothing but envy towards you if it happened to have passed you by. Far from a relatively jovial evening of breezy political discussion with the always endearing Robert Peston, the experience quickly became akin to having a cheese grater forcibly scraped across your brain. This was largely thanks to the innately insufferable Nadine Dorries who, despite being ever indignant towards people questioning her intelligence, seemingly struggles with the relatively simple concept of not responding to questions that were asked of someone else.

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If you value your sanity, it’d be best you avoid watching on catch-up. Trust me.

Though to be fair to her, I can understand why she was eager to pontificate. The only card Dorries and her ilk have to play is to endlessly bemoan a perceived problem they don’t have any real solutions to – and with Theresa May finally having produced a draft of the EU Withdrawal Agreement, it gave her the perfect opportunity to express her self-righteous indignation while keeping the empty vacuum behind her eyes conveniently obscured underneath a veil of distraction.

Indeed, today’s inevitable ministerial resignations only serve as testament to such an approach not only being a prevalent tactic, but also one which has poisoned our parliamentary system, setting in a seemingly irreversible rot which precipitated today’s collapse.

There’s already been resignations aplenty, each one undertaken under the pretence of “principle” and accompanied with the sort of bitter sloganeering usually found in one of Leave.EU’s pathetic morsels of wretched propaganda.

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See? Right at home.

A significant portion of the resignees you’re unlikely to have heard too much of, having largely spent their cabinet career skulking in the shadows, periodically emerging with the occasional boneheaded, pro-Brexit soundbite or filling in if the government required a last minute stooge to suffer an avalanche of derision courtesy of the Question Time audience.

However there are two rather prominent Cabinet ministers who’ve also handed in their notice, though their prominence has only really been achieved by way of abject incompetence.

Obviously I speak of Esther McVey and, of course, Dominic Raab – a man who was ostensibly appointed our Brexit secretary in an move which can only be described as an act of sheer defiance against logic itself.

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I’d love to say I’m sorry to see them go – but that would be a lie. A massive lie.

The resignation of McVey was expected and nobody really seems the least bit disappointed to see her go. The only quibble anyone could really have with such a pathetically inept minister finally pissing off is that she’s managed to fashion her own exit; resigning over the supposed Brexit “betrayal” with assumed honour hardly befitting of someone who’s heaped untold amounts of misery upon the most destitute and desperate by way of Universal Credit.

As morally repulsive as McVey’s reign of ruination may have been however, she is but a mere pretender when compared to the dishonourable absurdity of Dominic Raab, our erstwhile Brexit Secretary.

Raab is a rather strange character, paradoxically bearing the demeanour of a lost and frightened child while sporting the receding hairline of a middle aged man. Though these are merely cheap shots at what is ultimately immaterial. To let a man of such callous ineptitude escape with a bit of shallow aesthetical ribbing would be letting him off far too lightly.

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Looks like young Dominic has been summoned into the headmaster’s office again.

It’s fair to say that not much was expected of Raab when he suddenly found himself in the spotlight as our nation’s Brexit Secretary. Our first attempt at employing someone with a semblance of nous had been an unmitigated disaster – and he didn’t even get fired; he himself having initially started the trend of running away the moment accountability drew near. So if he was shit, what could you really expect from his substitute?

Raab did indeed exceed expectations, though only by virtue of somehow making David Davis appear a veritable political titan by way of retrospective comparison.

Never once did Raab inspire confidence. While at times he did at least try to fashion his own style of aggressive negotiations, all attempts fell pitifully flat as each bluff was carried out with the expertise of a poker novice holding his cards backwards. In fact his chronic bumblings became so laughable there were rumours that he was in fact a hard Brexit sleeper agent, surreptitiously sabotaging negotiations from within. Whether there’s any truth in this only Raab himself will ever know, though it’s hard to expect such delicate subterfuge coming from a man who only realised that Britain is an island last week. Resigning in protest against a deal it was his job to cobble together is a move regrettably fitting of such a dubious intellect.

One man who most definitely is looking to collapse May’s Brexit deal (and indeed May’s premiership) however is the chronically displaced time immigrant Jacob Rees-Mogg, finally handing in the letter of no confidence we’ve all known was inevitable for at least a year.

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Having now seen what became of Walter the Softy, you can’t help but feel that perhaps Dennis the Menace had a point.

Naturally he wasn’t courteous enough to enclose a workable alternative, but that’s always been the problem with the hardline Brexiteers. Whether we’re talking about Dorries, Rees-Mogg or now Dominic Raab, their bluster and laughably ramshackle veneer of patriotic integrity is all they have. It’s the easiest thing in the world to rally against a proposal that is universally despised, but do they really have any better ideas? When you consider that, when pressed today, Rees-Mogg suggested Boris Johnson and David Davis as credible replacements for May – two men who have offered nothing but empty rhetoric for over two years – the answer can only be summed up with a definitive “no”.

So where does this leave us? The mere citizens helplessly chained to the roof of this runaway train as it hurtles ever closer to the ravine?

Well let’s see. A government collapsing in on itself? Check. An EU withdrawal agreement over two years in the making about to die on its arse in less than a day? Check. Michael Gove mooted as our next Brexit Secretary? Check fucking mate.

As much as the Mogglodytes clearly revel in boosting their own profile by way of political brinkmanship, it seems to overlook the fact that these are serious and needless risks that we’re taking – and the plebs are along for the ride whether we like it or not. Brexit has always been fuelled by unrefined ideology with feasibility not even reaching the level of a mere afterthought – and the fatal drawbacks of such a short sighted approach are becoming more obvious by the day.

Ultimately these calculated resignations are doomed to be an exercise in futility. They might very well oust May, but the ship will still be sinking with the antagonists short of actual solutions – and if we’re to learn from the lessons of recent history, Raab and the rest of the rats are going to flee before it finally goes down.

It’s just a shame they have to chew so many holes in the hull before they scarper.

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Theresa May and the Cavalcade of Calamity

Let’s be honest, Theresa May is far from an inspirational public speaker. Unnervingly stilted and forever crippled by an unmistakable undercurrent of disingenuity, she doesn’t so much kindle the fires of hope within your being, more gradually drowns your helpless soul under an ever rising tide of apathy.

Still, for better or for worse (spoilers: the latter) she is indeed our Prime Minster and, ostensibly, our leader on the world stage. So it was to the consternation of many to see her cutting a decidedly isolated figure amongst EU leaders at the recent summit in Salzburg.

It was almost as though we’d done something to piss them off.

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Should have worn blue really.

Everyone saw it. The nation and indeed the world as a whole looked on aghast as Britain, once a major influence within the European Parliament, reduced to a similar role to that of a evolution textbook in Alabama.

The howls of indignation from the usual suspects of hard Brexit mouthpieces were as excruciatingly illogical as they were predictable. How dare they treat our Prime Minister this way – all the while conveniently side-stepping the fact that they’d spent the past two years accusing May of being a Remain saboteur who was desperate to sell out the nation to her EU masters. Though such transient morality should hardly be a surprise when it comes from those that place feelings firmly ahead of facts – feelings can change in an instant, facts tend to be more rigid.

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Leave.EU here, feigning shock at the very same EU leaders they’d spent years insisting we shouldn’t hang around with not being especially keen on hanging around with us themselves.

Breathtaking hypocrisy aside, it seemed like an apparent eternity of ritual humiliation had taken its toll on poor Mrs May. As if being harangued at home by those who wish to replace her with a bumbling yet sinister Etonian new potato wasn’t bad enough, her cherished Chequers proposal (I’ll stop short of calling it a coherent plan) had suffered an inevitable rejection on account of it being entirely unworkable.

An understandable quibble perhaps, but it certainly proved to be the straw that broke Theresa’s back. So much so that, upon her arrival back on our shores, she felt compelled to take to the stage and deliver an unexpected statement – albeit after power issues at Number 10 caused a delay in a not at all metaphorical blooper brought about by sheer happenstance.

What happened next had to be seen to be believed – and even then it’s likely to mistake it for some sort of horrendous, narcotic induced hallucination.

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Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned – except not really in this case.

It really was a sight to behold – almost a performance piece of denialism straight out of the uncanny valley. It’s fair to say that there was somewhat more vigour in this speech than the usual flat-line; as if the recent rebuff had finally ignited a flicker of emotion within the first replicant to ever hold high government office. However actually managing to win the attention of your audience does come with the odd potential pitfall – they’ll actually be listening to the words you’re saying.

The delivery may have been marginally more forthright, but the content was ultimately the same formulaic, heavily rehearsed piffle that we’ve heard a billion times before; yet here she was, repeating her incredibly dubious dogma as though the added semblance of gusto will somehow drag it kicking and screaming into the realms of plausible reality. Unfortunately, as our self imposed deadline grows ever closer with time fast trickling away, trotting out unfounded assertions and attempting to sling the burden of culpability over to the EU’s side of the court isn’t terribly useful – unless your objective is to look like a demented fantasist and crash your own national currency.

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If you thought that was bad, wait until her speech at the Tory Party Conference causes the Sun to explode.

Granted not everyone looked upon it as an embarrassing failure – the Daily Express referred to it as her “finest hour”, perhaps unwittingly offering a tacit admission as to how low the bar of acceptability has really sunk when it comes to May’s time in office. The Sun also offered us this typically ludicrous front page, which clearly won’t be looked back upon in years to come as the very apex of nationalistic stupidity.

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Geri Halliwell wore it better.

As for myself, well it left me feeling rather despondent. Perhaps I should be used to such a sensation by now but we really are approaching the end game. Seeing our nation’s attempts at international diplomacy still marooned in the jingoistic sloganeering stage is just further confirmation that absolutely no progress has been made since the UK voted to leave. It’s become almost immaterial as to whether the lazy attempts at PR wash with the public anymore, it’s clear by this point it’s all May and her government really have – so that’s all we’re ever going to get.

It’s this state of perpetual impasse that reveals the inherent irony which has plagued Brexit from the very beginning. While initially heralded as a bid to “take back control”, achieve true independence and show the world what we as a nation are capable of, in actuality it’s been a sorry procession of blunders, eternally undermined by the lack of any clear objective; all the while maintaining a stubborn insistence that the endless cavalcade of calamity is somebody else’s fault – namely the European Union.

Which leads onto perhaps the most delicious irony of all. Hidden away amongst the more familiar soundbites in May’s speech was a minor yet oh so telling new addition – frustration that the EU haven’t provided a counter proposal to soothe the headaches exclusive to the United Kingdom.

For all Theresa’s attempts at posturing and playing hardball, it’ll all be for nought. The only thing Donald Tusk will see is a desperate British Prime Minister, waiting in vain for the EU to solve a Brexit conundrum entirely of the UK’s own making.

Open Letter to Theresa May – A somewhat disgruntled response

Hello Prime Minister,

We’ve never met. In fact, we’re unlikely ever to do so – I’m merely one of those British citizens you were curiously reluctant to meet back in 2017, avoiding us with the same steadfast caution normally associated with an outbreak of the norovirus. To you I’m little more than an irrelevance, ultimately offering you nothing beyond a cat in hell’s chance of periodically lending my solitary vote to your party.

However I couldn’t help but notice your article in The Telegraph yesterday. Given how your tenure as Prime Minister has been almost entirely characterised by a rather alarming disinclination to engage with those your purport to represent, it’s fair to say my interest was piqued. Having witnessed many previous attempts at addressing your people, your stage presence laced with insincerity and a cold streak that sets off every Voight-Kampff machine within a ten mile radius, I can’t deny I was rather interested to see what your smarts could come up with when limited to the relative safe-haven of print media – a medium in which your many foibles and staggering disingenuity should arguably be less of a crutch with the gaze of a nation no longer transfixed directly upon you.

So I had a read. After all, as a member of our nation’s electorate it was essentially addressed to the likes of me – albeit indirectly. Nevertheless, despite inspiration being a term that has never previously been associated with yourself, I’m forced to admit that, in this case, your words did indeed inspire a reaction within me.

Regrettably, said reaction was one of unbridled rage which left me feeling obligated to respond – just who the hell do you think you’re talking to?

I can only presume that the thought process behind your lamentable screed was one of empty placation. As reclusive as you evidently are, it can’t have escaped your attention that a feeling of chronic consternation has long since enshrouded the populace you serve. Each and every day we continue our ungainly stumble towards the Brexit precipice, each step accompanied by a grim yet inevitable dose of reality urging us to reconsider. People are understandably worried and not just for themselves. They’re worried about their families, their friends and, perhaps most of all, what a Brexit you’ve routinely failed to define will actually do to their country as the last moments of the 29th March 2019 finally trickle away.

And this was the best you come up with? The same empty and diversionary platitudes you wretched out over two years ago? While it’s true that the political class has always held the cognitive capacity of the proletariat in a perpetual state of withering contempt, to fob off legitimately concerned citizens with such formulaic piffle is but further testament to the achingly apparent disdain you clearly possess for our collective intelligence. Such a verdict may indeed seem hasty, but the only alternative I’m able to fathom is that your mind could simply be lost within a haze of impenetrable delusion – which once again is a perception that brings little in the way of comfort.

Now I’m not the smartest of cookies, nor am I the sharpest tool in the drawer by any means – which is why I’ll leave the finer points of your waffle to those who would easily best me in a battle of political acumen. That said, I do still possess working eyes, ears and a modest yet functional ability to interpret what’s going on around me – and, even with this limited arsenal of intellectual weaponry, I’m able to decipher as to when events are going horrifically awry. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that a fifth of EU doctors preparing to leave our already crippled NHS isn’t exactly a cause for celebration. You don’t have to be Stephen Hawking to realise that our continued economic decline most likely isn’t an unfortunate coincidence. It also isn’t the most profound of insights to determine that our own government making plans to stockpile food and medicine is an alarming symptom of a nation preparing for capitulation.

Yet you, our nation’s Prime Minister, are not only happy to exhibit such breathtaking hubris as to sweep the warnings of experts (who are infinitely smarter and more experienced in such matters than yourself, I hasten to add) under the carpet, you also demonstrate a callous disregard for the lives and well-being of the millions trapped under your pitiful stewardship – a duty of care that has been neglected to the point whereby you deny them the chance to regain some sense of control over a destiny you clearly don’t care about.

Putting your obvious incompetence to one side, such a reckless and stubborn commitment to a jingoistic fantasy can only be interpreted as the actions of a demagogue acting purely in their own self interest. We’ve all found ourselves bemused onlookers to the laughable spectacle of the Conservative Party imploding under the weight of its own ideological imbalances – and staving off what is at this point now an inevitable collapse seems to be your only desire. After all us mere plebs can only vote against you every five years and without an election on the horizon our concerns are of no interest to you – hence your risible, half-hearted and sporadic attempts to placate us.

You ask us to trust you, yet you fill your cabinet with liars. You say you’ll deliver a “bold and exciting” future for our country outside the European Union, yet can only back this up with vague and wholly dubious proclamations. You say you will offer strong and stable leadership, yet you cannot answer even the simplest and most dichotomous of questions. With this in mind, it’s perhaps rather obvious as to why you’re against giving the public a final say on Brexit – for there is little else which could possibly provide such a damning indictment on the deplorable state of your eternally regrettable tenure as Prime Minister.

Don’t worry though – when all’s said and done you’ll be fine. Being the Prime Minister undoubtedly pays well and you’ll be able to utilise such an employment history to accrue further unmerited income for the rest of your days. I’m afraid to say that’ll be no help to the rest of us however. Us normal folk will still be toiling away and desperately attempting to make ends meet from one unstable pay-cheque to the next – only now we’ll be further hamstrung by the crumbling economy of a once prosperous nation; fully perpetuated by your protection of the very same dogmatic careerists who set this sorry pageant into motion in the first place.

Not that you’ll care though. Why break the habit of a lifetime?

The Indifference of the Irony Lady

Ever wondered what it would be like to peer into a parallel universe? No, me neither – but if you were ever sufficiently curious to take a peek through the looking glass then fear not. There’s no need for scientific quackery or appealing to the occult; not when you can just pop down to your local newsagents.

See the below case in point:

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I preferred the leather trousers.

Yeah, nobody bought it back then either; except perhaps for toadying careerists and the hopelessly entrenched. In any case, time has only served to amplify the absurdity of what was already an inherently ridiculous proclamation. Though May can’t cry foul about a lack of opportunity to prove her mettle – the ludicrous doodle above being perhaps the perfect example. The battle lines were drawn and the tough talk spewed but, now we can look upon proceedings in retrospect, it was ultimately May who yielded first – most likely because the potential success of her negotiating strategy hinged entirely on the EU falling for a bluff that was visible from Jupiter.

However, Brexit being ever the malfunctioning drainage system, spurting out endless torrents of shit for some hapless patsy to clear up, there’s barely a day that goes by without a split pipe for Theresa to fix – or at least attempt to. So what better way to sway public mood and attempt to live up to a preposterously inaccurate caricature than by taking a strong stance on the recent and increasingly disconcerting allegations of skulduggery by the Vote Leave campaign? I mean nobody likes skulduggery, so surely May has to drop that hypothetical (and indeed, hyperbolic) iron fist of hers, right?

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She’s got a point. There’s no such thing as ‘allegatiions’.

Oh.

You could just look upon this as so far so predictable before your mind moves swiftly onto its next object of vague disgruntlement, but by doing so you’d be missing out on an absolute goldmine of diversionary blatherings – perfectly encapsulated by the following quote which is perhaps the quintessential Theresa May non-answer for all time:

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Yes, all your old favourites are here. Starting off with a standard “Can I simply say…” before setting up the finale with the classic promise to be clear (very clear in fact). Then for those still paying attention, their focus is rewarded with an oh so typical sidestep cunningly disguised as a definitive answer – a staple of the May premiership.

When you’ve wiped away the tears and looked beyond May’s seemingly automated soundbites however, you begin to see something altogether more troubling – indifference.

It’s true that the Tories have never quite been held aloft as morally sound, bastions of empathy (a picture that in of itself can lead to a reaction of indifference from the electorate themselves) but, in this case especially, such an empty response to allegations of criminal activity simply cannot be swept under an increasingly conspicuous rug.

If such a brazen lack of concern wasn’t insane enough then factoring Theresa May herself into the mix adds a whole new layer of absurdity. It’s no secret that May backed Remain during the EU referendum campaign; granted you’ll not receive a reminder of this from May herself, but fortunately the vast repository known as the internet continues admirably in its role as a politician’s worst nightmare:

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If Theresa May didn’t add enough pizzazz, Bob Geldof was in the “In crowd” too.

See? She had a sign and everything. Taking this into account it seems almost laughable that Theresa is naive to Brexit being an act of folly and, with her response to allegations of foul play during the referendum campaign being little more than a dismissive shrug, the situation grows increasingly surreal. We’re bumbling towards a Brexit, a path we’re pursuing in stubborn defiance of all the warnings to turn back, led by a Prime Minister who, not only doesn’t actually believe in it, but outright refuses to pause for thought when it’s revealed that a result she didn’t want just may have been won illegally.

Sadly, we’re all along for the ride; gagged and chained on the backseat of a beat up Ford Escort, helpless to intervene as Nosferatu’s great aunt slams down on the accelerator with a cliff edge looming ahead. Obviously this is a pretty horrifying predicament to find ourselves in and, as our minds scurry between visions of fiery doom and chlorinated chicken, a lingering question remains. We know that the one driving the car is fully aware that what they’re doing is madness, so just why is she doing it? If her actions aren’t of her own design then who’s pulling the strings? What do they stand to gain?

What does Theresa May stand to gain?

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I rest my case.