“He looks like a homeless person,” my friend in the swimming pool said this morning before we started our swim, “With a tie!” Perhaps it doesn’t need me to tell you which English political character he was taking about, given the international publicity that shuffling lummox has had over his latest U-turn.
If it wasn’t for the unnecessary deaths that his ineptitude and indolence have caused, it would be rollickingly funny. But it isn’t. It’s a national humiliation as each new catastrophic missed opportunity or slipshod execution pushes the figures even further beyond the “optimistic” projected number of 20,000 dead by the end of the pandemic that was voiced with some belief in the early stages of the infection!
I hope that the increasing dead haunt Johnson’s every waking thought because it is his ‘”leadership’” that has pushed the figures into the national disgrace that they have become. I think that the charges of “corporate manslaughter” that Johnson and his cabinet should face are becoming more and more of a necessity if the thousands of excess deaths are ever going to be properly laid at the feet of the architect of the political chaos that helped make them. Indeed, I think that the term “manslaughter” is far, far too mild for what he and his low-life ministers have actually done.
However bitter my thoughts and how eager I am to see Johnson brought to justice; I know that my writing is just so much bile. Even if Johnson were to read it he wouldn’t recognize the application to himself; he is so much of a narcissist that he would ‘naturally’ push the blame off on to someone else. Responsibility has never been one of his strong points, well, not even a point really, so he would brush off any criticism as ‘inapplicable’ and carry on in the way that he has lived all of his life: falling upwards and ignoring negative opinions.
The only problem that I foresee is that his final comeuppance will come, but at a price that will involve the whole of the United Kingdom (for as long as that concept is going to survive his governance) in taking the hit for his failures, and he will gambol away (possibly humming a merry tune like Cameron) as he disappears into the lucrative lecture circuit and shallow book writing future that he has mapped out for himself.
But wait, I was forgetting, as a past holder of his present post he will be entitled (?) to a peerage, Lord Boris of Bullshit, floridly resplendent in his (probably borrowed) robes, so that he can continue fleecing the country with his lordly per diems!
Enough! We have only hours (or days, or weeks, or months, or years) left before the latest deadline for a Brexit agreement. Has anyone bothered to count up the number of deadlines that have come and gone? I do hope that someone has kept track of what we were offered and what we could have got at all the times in the past when an agreement was in the offing. I am more than sure that what (if anything) we end up with will be a pale reflection of what we could have had if we had etc etc etc, and specifically if self-harming opposition of people like the Odious Rees-Mogg and the Unthinkable IDS had not been invented. I have to admit that one finds it hard to imagine that those two (together with the unmentionables in the rabid Brexit gang) ever being ‘born’ in the normal human way.
With a lurch, I will try to stop foaming at the mouth with justifiable resentment and anger and become a trifle more composed.
This evening I am going to a carol concert in Wales. Not in reality of course, but virtually via Zoom. The Cardiff Ardwyn Singers are presenting a Christmas Concert of carols dedicated to the memory of Gaynor Wilkins, wife of John, both of whom were connected with the Choir.
Money raised via the link below will go to the Haematology Unit for Cardiff and Vale Health Charity in recognition of the care that they showed in the treatment of Gaynor’s rare form of blood cancer Myelodysplastic syndrome (MDS)
www.justgiving.com/fundraising/rhiannon-wilkins
Something real.
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