The arrival of a new Prime Minister tomorrow could not be more boring or irrelevant.
Simon Lincoln Reader
Tomorrow one of the two monkeys jockeying for leadership of the Conservative party will be eliminated – my guess it will be the one always gushing about California, but who knows, or cares. On Wednesday the other one arrived on stage at the final husting in the same way others in her party always do and have always done – by dancing extremely badly, to extremely bad music. I have witnessed this too many times in Britain; at the Conservative conference in 2015; at the Conservative conference in 2018 and at St. Pancras one morning when a family with rucksacks discovered a jukebox and started jumping around wildly to some crap, Sam Smith (they / them) maybe or that cuckold married to that Bollywood actress (friend of Princess Harry’s husband Meghan) – the lack of self-awareness astonishing, limitless. You would have thought: surely there must be a catamite on the Tory payroll who knows this is embarrassing and makes enough noise for it to stop? You would have thought wrong: young Theodore Hedley Fairfax and his friends are too busy checking out if there are any male reporters worth seducing with Cava and diversity falafels (if they’re not busy submitting to their owners in a nice Premier Inn town facing room – priorities).
As predicted (not hard), neither of the final candidates were remotely impressive. There was a lot of “we might” – e.g. “we might scrap some levys” or “we might consider reducing the size of the explicitly destructive civil service”. But what has emerged throughout this charade has been indication that “might” is dependent upon forces that cannot be contained or influenced. The enduring issue of vaccines and the current thing of Ukraine are out of their control, cheerfully so, along with the respective consequences. Policing is out of their control, dentistry, strikes and inflation (at this point the country is literally begging a gymnastics coach from Wynberg to replace the almost unimaginably useless Andrew Bailey at the reserve bank).
I won’t bore you with how this happened, but before tomorrow’s final leaves you in no doubt of the ineptitude of over a decade of Conservative rule, it may be helpful to position exactly where the party is today, so that misconceptions leaning toward sympathy can sent to hell – where they belong. And that is to the left of the American RINOs, the Justin Ardern or Jacinda Trudeau administrations – dead centre of Dark Brandon’s monkeys – and probably where the DA would be had a genius like Phumzile van Damme been appointed leader. That’s right: at present, the most successful political party in the history of the world is as effective as a lippy donkey from Manzini who has been bought by shadowy ‘misinformation’ cash.
And just to complete the collapse of a wasted era, a reasonable theory: when Rishi Sunak loses tomorrow, he’s going to gap it to California. That’s a perfect ending for today’s Conservative party. Not an election loss, or insurmountable ideological division – but the sight of an all-smiles former Chancellor wearing fashionable sneakers being escorted into the Virgin Clubhouse at terminal 3: “see you later losers, lockdown not my fault, etc, etc.”
What a shower.
PS. If you have it in you, this is apparently the new cabinet