Words are important!

 

 

Still no indication of when I am going to be vaccinated.  My group has been prioritised in so far as we are told that efforts are being made to vaccinate us, but we have also been told to be patient we are at the younger end of the tranche.  Which of course, I am.

     The galling thing is that, had I still been in the UK, I would have been vaccinated by now.  I always told myself that my probable jab date would be in April, but it looks likely that my first jab will now be next month.

     I do have an alternative: to go to one of the mass vaccination centres and I did get as far as filling out an on-line application, until I found that the nearest centre is rather further away than I am comfortable with.  But, I have also decided that if I get no indication of my chance of a jab by the end of the week, then I am filling out the form and going wherever I can get one.

     Next month also sees the relaxation of national State of Emergency rules and even now, people are behaving in a more relaxed way, and given the low rates of vaccination that seems foolhardy to say the least.  It therefore follows that to be safe, it will be worth a boring car ride to some centre outside the region to start to get at least a putative 60% protection from the influx of visitors that we are bound to get as the weather gets warmer.

 

I watched PMQs today and saw Liar Johnson have a whole series of anger management problems with the clinical questioning of the Leader of the Opposition.  Keir was viciously glacial in his contempt for Johnson’s bluster.  And, as usual, I watched the Prime Minister’s performance with a mixture of shame and loathing: shame that such tawdry liar could get to the highest office in the land; and loathing that the burbling semi-coherent venom he spat out abused the language in which I delight.

     When teaching Paradise Lost, especially Satan’s great speeches in Book 1, I always said that politicians could learn a lot from the way that Satan use the form of what he said to cover the truth in what he said.  The Heroic cadences of his words almost masked the reality of defeat.  The speech is magnificent in the way it sounds – but it is all lies, a series of empty rhetorical gestures.  Johnson didn’t even rise to an interesting rhetorical gesture in what he said – but what can you expect from a moral vacuum?  Johnson should read Paradise Lost – not Satan’s speeches, he will never rise to those linguistic depths of mendacity, but rather to read about what happens to someone who tries to live the lies he spins!  Unfortunately, Johnson is clinically and morally incapable of what Satan experiences,

“Abashed the Devil stood

And felt how awful goodness is”

Since Johnson is incapable of feeling shame, there is not even a slim chance that he will ever be “abashed” and as he finds it virtually impossible to appreciate “goodness” without seeing it as weakness, there can be no moment of recognition of a force greater than himself.  He has no moral compass because he is his own loadstone.

     I am not, by the way, comparing Satan with Johnson.  Satan in Paradise Lost is a literary construct, a humanized embodiment of evil and therefore the purity of the depiction is compromised by the very humanity that makes his character able to be appreciated by the reader.  But the concept of the character of Satan is a very useful example to use when comparing what he says and how he says it with the way of looking at and listening to the techniques that politicians use to duck answering questions or to rewrite disaster as victory.

     Time after time, I come back to the failure of the “delete all and insert” technique of formal debate from my time in college, when clever debaters used to think up amendments to motions using the “delete all and insert” to try and completely change the original motion to its opposite.  Sometimes this worked or should I say ‘worked’ and the amended motion was passed, but then it failed when reality came into play and the thing had to work in the real world outside debate.

     Words are tricky things and you play with them at your peril.  In the graveyard scene in Hamlet when talking with the gravedigger who plays linguistic games with what Hamlet is saying, Hamlet says, “How absolute the knave is!  We must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us.”  Johnson, Gove and the rest of the third-rate lickspittle lightweights with whom they have surrounded themselves are playing the gravedigger and hoping to “‘scape whipping”

     I would remind those worthless attendant lords that Hamlet does not end well and neither will they.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is worse?

 

 

Where is William Rees-Mogg?  What crypt have the Conservatives confined him in?  He is certainly safely far away from public view.

     You must understand that I do not enquire about his whereabout through any concern on my part about his welfare, but my mind has turned towards him as I have read through the Guardian reports about the latest shenanigans in the on-going horror story of corruption and sleaze, incompetence and arrogance, callous disregard and breath-taking audacity that mark each new day in the life of the United Kingdom’s so-called Conservative government.

   Why, you would have every reason to ask, does my mind turn towards Rees-Mogg during these testing times?  Why dwell, even for a moment, on the Slytherin Dark Prince of Pure Brexit?

     Well, the truth of the matter is that the Liars’ Liar, Pile-‘em-High Johnson, has descended so far into the miasmic pit of deceit and corruption that, by comparison, his satanic highness Rees-Mogg looks more and more like a reasonable chappie.

     And that assertion tells you that British Conservative Politics has reached a level of awfulness that all previous language and concepts designed to express disgust are clearly inadequate.  If Who-Knows-How-Many-Children Johnson is now an even less attractive option than Rees-Mogg, then we truly have reached the End Times.

     But, just when you despair, Gove comes to mind, to remind you that there are depths that even the blundering loquacity of Johnson and the diamond distain of Rees-Mogg have yet to plumb.

     The gut-wrenching awfulness of Gove’s appearance in the Commons to justify/explain/excuse the criminal train wreck of a government led by a serial liar was a master class in repulsive Jesuitical casuistry.  Gove is no fool and he chooses his words with a care which is entirely lost on the average baying hooray henry of his party. 

     Every ‘speech’ by Gove should be analysed by a group of hand-picked pedants to find out exactly what he said, rather than what he gave the impression of having said.  Or perhaps his ‘speeches’ should be analysed by a group of insurance policy underwriters who are well used to finding ways out of fulfilling their obligations.  They are the ones who can look at a statement like, “I did not hear him say that when I was in the room,” and explain that ambiguity allows, “I was outside the room when I heard him say it,” to be true without making the first statement a lie.

     I always feel sullied when I hear Gove speak; his words are the equivalents of smuts – to hear is to be defiled.

     Johnson, in so far as he has penetrated the consciousness of the people around me who are not British, is regarded as an absurd figure of fun, he is treated with common contempt and is summed up in the public’s mind by the before-and-after pictures of his first post-lockdown haircut, where the universal response was, “Did he pay actual money for that!”

     I am ashamed of the government of the United Kingdom, and I am deeply ashamed that so many of my fellow countrymen continue to support a Prime Minister who, in my view, should be prosecuted for corporate manslaughter.