Tuesday, 5 December 2017

Brexit's Red Lines

The Brexit talks have, once again and to no one’s surprise but the Brexiters, gone rather pear shaped. The problem, you see, are the ‘Red Lines’. This week, all those Red Lines met with Real World, and it didn’t go well. Almost everyone has at least one big Red Line in this debate. The Ultra Brexiters, lead by the likes of Rees-Mogg and Gove, have created a web of red lines with a spirograph, carefully ruling out any possible outcome at all. Which is their favourite outcome.

Theresa May, who started all this Red Line business, has drawn more than her fair share of them. She then retreats to her office. Has a quiet sob. And then finds that all her Red Lines are smudged with her tears. David Davis has a bunch of Red Lines. But he won’t let anyone see where he has drawn them, in case it helps the EU. Every now and then, someone will ask Jeremy Corbyn if he has any Red Lines, but the useless git just starts singing verses from the Red Flag.


It turns out the DUP also have a Red Line. Their’s is drawn in crayon, because they’re a little bit too closely related to a terrorist organisation and not allowed to use any implements that can be turned into shanks. It’s best for everyone involved, but if they learn to behave, then they might be allowed to use big boys writing pens one day.

Damian Green felt a bit left out and wanted some Red Lines to call his own, but somehow ended up on Red Tube instead. Now the police have his computer and he just has a bit of a Red Face instead. There are some other Tories, who will remain nameless, who at one stage showed some interest in Red Lines. However, they quickly lost interest when they discovered that these new fangled Red Lines are not supercharged variants of the white lines they are more familiar with.

You might think that this sounds like talks are just going round in circles. But that’s over complicating matters. Picture a game of musical chairs. Everytime the music stops, everyone tries to grab a seat, but there is one seat less than last time. Who will grab the winning chair? I can answer that now. I could have answered this in June 2016. The EU will be sitting in the winning chair. Because they were sat in it from the word go. They haven’t ever gotten out of it, even when the music restarts after each round.

Unlike everyone else, they aren’t playing a game. Because they know that, actually, there are no ‘negotiations’. The EU has no Red Line. They simply have conditions which must be met. Not positions to be discussed. This is win-win for them. Either we pay them tens of billions and give them a bit of our trade. Or we pay them nothing and they take tens of billions of our trade.

This is the only plausible explanation for the way Brexit has developed, from before the referendum to the present day. Maybe one day we’ll look back at this sorry saga and find it funny. But I won’t take much credit for it. This Brexit Comedy just writes itself…
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Saturday, 2 December 2017

Trump See, Trump Do

Trump see, Trump do. Or so goes a well known proverb in the world of monkeys when describing a closely related but intellectually inferior species that is currently in the news. Smarter monkeys refer to this species by their Latin name, Republicanus Deplorabilis. We humans, at the top of the brains ladder, refer to their characteristics with a wider range of vocab. Fascists. Mentally unstable. Ignorant. White supremacists. Dotards. Cockwombles.

One would think that by now, all that could be said about Trump, has been said about Trump. And yet, he keeps on providing fresh material for us to poke at on a daily basis. When I wake up in the morning, there is greater certainty that he will have said something stupid on Twitter than there is that the sun will rise. One would think that by now, Trump would have achieved maximum global contempt. And yet, he keeps on demonstrating that he can climb further up the ladder of contempt, onto rungs we mere mortals did not even know existed.


This week has been particularly special. Firstly, there were his three retweets of Britain First content. For the uniformed, Britain First are far-right ultra nationalists, run by convicted criminals, loathed even by your normal run of the mill right-wing racist. Think KKK, without the white bedsheet kit. They regularly publish inflammatory posts based on material of dubious origin which are, all too often, not what they make it out to be. For example, they claim the first video features Muslim immigrants beating up a Dutch boy on crutches. In fact, there are no immigrants in this video and the religion of the offender is unknown. The other two videos are not relevant to migration at all.

Theresa May responded, diplomatically, informing Trump that his retweets weren’t helpful. You can imagine what happened next. Yes, indeed. Mr Trump tweeted Theresa Scrivener, who has a grand total of 6 followers, to instruct her to ‘not focus on him, but focus on radical Islamic terrorism.’ Who is this Theresa Scrivener? I have no idea who she is. Nor does Trump, it would appear. He deleted the tweet and then responded to the UK PM instead.

There are just so many rhetorical questions that his behaviour over the last few days raises. Why would he share racial and religious hate material? Why would he even follow someone like Ann Coulter who shares this sort of stuff? Why can he not competently send tweets to the right person? Really, who is Theresa Scrivener? And having demonstrated that he knows how to delete a tweet, why has he not deleted the three retweets which are clearly a bit bogus? Why would he want to create something of a diplomatic furore with one of the US’s strongest allies? When will he focus on being the President of the United States?

Most of those questions do not need answering. But fear not USA. We Brits have a solution. It’ll take some time, but bear with us and all will be right with the world again. All we need is for Harry and Meghan to produce American born off-spring and loiter in the Hamptons for 14 years or so. Obviously, the unborn can have no name. But let’s refer to him as George. Now lets fast forwards a few decades. We’re just a car crash or two away from turning this youngester from Prince into King. It sounds complicated, but don’t worry yourselves, we’re experienced at this sort of thing.

At this point, in early 2056, we are just one presidential campaign away from retaking the colonies. King George VII, President of the United States of America. Significantly less mad than the last George we foisted upon you, far classier than the current occupant of the White House, a whole bunch more desirable that a President Trump Jr or a President Kushner and sufficiently intelligent to not be looked down upon by monkeys. I know what you’re thinking. There’s an obvious flaw to my plan, and I am indeed being slightly facetious. Because, of course, the Trumps and Kushners will still be too busy campaigning for release from prison to be concerning themselves with bids for the White House…
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