the brilliantly leaping gazelle

In the midst of everyone playing the blame game about the current Brexit fiasco, no-one has as yet properly identified the main culprits. Yes, proroguing parliament is a desperate throw of the dice by a Prime Minister increasingly out of options. But then we should properly ask ourselves who gave him such crap dice? I mean Boris Johnson had to work with what he inherited from Theresa May and she had a to try and make the best of a bad lot from the first day of premiership.

If, on the 29^th June 2016, instead of this country being convulsed with the referendum result, had politicians from all sides pledged to come together in a spirit of common purpose to make Brexit work, then this whole sorry farrago might have been avoided. But then it is hardly fair to blame politicians for being politicians. After all, politicians are, in theory, servants of the people that elect them, and it is they – us – the electorate, that bear ultimate responsibility for the chaos we find ourselves in.

It is worth bearing in mind that 28.2% of the electorate didn’t vote. Mind you, having written that, it’s hard to know whether that is 28.2% of the adult population or 28.2% of the adult population who registered to vote. Regardless of that, given the slim majority of the Leave campaign, had those 28.2% been bothered enough to vote, then probably we wouldn’t have found ourselves in this chaos. Not only might there have been a clear and decisive mandate for one course of action, it would have also prevented the current turmoil being unleashed across the country and the very real risk of civil disobedience might have been negated. But clearly the 28.2% had other more important things to do that day. So if anyone is to blame for the current fiasco, it is them. You might think that some of them may well have assumed a vote to remain was a certainty, and therefore didn’t need to vote, but a certainty only becomes a certainty when it is made so. Possibly the remainers who didn’t vote are the one’s protesting the most vociferously now?

Although the 32.2% of us – well you, because I’ve always voted – who didn’t vote at the 2017 general election are marginally less contemptible. That was the election that saw a divided government weakened to the shambles it is today. That is why where we are where we are, it is wholly the fault of an apathetic electorate and quite why no politician dares speak this incontrovertible truth is beyond me. Far from being a failure of democracy, it is the electorate who have failed democracy.

So parliament is prorogued? It’s not as we voted for it, is it?

Oh the irony of having a first name that also embodies your defining political characteristic! The news today that the former Labour MP Chuka Umunna will fight the Cities of London and Westminster parliamentary seat for the Lib Dems at the next general election will come as no surprise to anyone who’s followed his unillustrious career.  

Previously a Labour MP who was elected on a manifesto that pledged to honour the result of the referendum, he then proceeded to do everything he could to achieve the very opposite. Upon finding that his ambition exceeded the standing others held him in, Chuka chucked it in with Labour to form a new party with a collection of unlikely lads and lasses, called, somewhat inaptly, Change UK. Rather annoyingly, the electorate voted with their er…votes and after a disastrous showing in the European elections, Chuka decided to chuck that in and joined the Lib Dems instead. All the while insisting there was no need to hold a by-election in his constituency until that is, the prospect of an impending general election became a very real possibility. Possibly aware that a constituency that returned its Labour candidate with a 68.5% share of the vote cast –more than double that of all his rivals combined – might not take too kindly to his political chicanery, he’s decided that the honourable thing to do is to decamp to a somewhere with a greater prospect of success.

Truly a man for our times!

I know its not exactly what one might call a ringing endorsement of Boris Johnson’s election as the new Conservative Party leader – and by dint of that, our next Prime Minister – the notion that because we’ll all be dead soon, it has only a relative importance. But I will be, and therefore it isRelative to not only how long I’m going to remain alive, relative to my potential to effect any meaningful change on whatever decisions he or other world leaders may make, but most of all, relative the lack of any effective action by humanity to reverse catastrophic climate change.

It literally dawned on me at 04.58 this morning as I watched the sun come up, that ultimately, nothing we say or do matters from here on in. I’m at the seaside at Cromer and enduring the heatwave, one that may or may not set records for the hottest UK temperature, but will be one of the hottest years globally on record. Most of these have occurred in the recent past and we not only know this but in trying to combat the heats effects we only make the problem worse. I am as guilty as the next man of this, unless of course, the next man happens to the President of China or America.

To cool off in the sun, my partner made some delicious homemade ice pops, using only watermelon juice and star fruit juice, whatever that is. Oh yes and the energy needed to freeze it, the petrol needed to drive to the supermarket and back to get the juice, the energy needed to keep it chilled until purchase. Oh, and then there’s the energy needed to transport it here, probably a combination of freight and air –freight, given that neither of these two fruits are grown in the UK. Then there’s the energy need to grow them, the sheer amount of water needed, the low wages producers need to pay their workers, so my partner, when she’s in Cromer Co-Op won’t think ‘How much?’ and choose something else. And I nearly forgot the packaging! I thought of all this as the ice-pop was melting, reflecting on if the sun could do that, what in Darwin’s name is it doing to the polar ice-sheets. Lots, I know, and none of it good.

Whilst we might imbue our own concerns with importance, that importance is only important to ourselves and is no of consequence not to the universe. This truism was borne out to me last week I visited the Turner Gallery in Margate, where there was an exhibition of seaside ‘photos, some of which were taken at the start of the last century. I was struck by the thought that all the people in those ‘photo’s, they were dead now, and all their hopes and dreams, which had seemed so important to them, had died with them.

This blog has always had a rather somewhat cynical view of humanity’s continued existence as beneficial for the planet, so therefore it would be a tad hypocritical to exempt myself from my own belief. And even if we ultimately pollute ourselves  out of existence, what will the universe care? Regardless of whatever deal or no deal we leave Europe with, the sun will still rise. How much longer humans will be around to witness it is another matter.

I know this is going to be a bit sexist and judgmental, but I am hugely judgmental and frequently withering in my appraisal of other people – well if they will befoul my eyes – so can I just observe that the ratio of good-looking men has demised markedly. I’m not exactly an Adonis myself- but then neither am I a John Merrick lookalike- but at least I make an effort. Some of the men here though, what with their curious facial furniture look like strategically shaved monkeys. If I wanted to better acquaint myself with the local hospitals A&E, I might ask if their knuckles hurt from being dragged along the floor. And as for what they wear, or rather, what they are not wearing, how much of this from decorum can be blamed on the weather, or where exactly do individuals bear some responsibility for baring nearly all is a moot point. But to me – and most right thinking people -men going topless and wearing flip-flops, whilst fine and appropriate on a beach, isn’t street attire. It seems however, that here in Cromer they’ve enthusiastically embraced what seems like anarchic clotheslessness.

And all too frequently, this abandon of propriety goes hand in hand with tattoo’s. Where did this obsession with body disfigurement come from? Most people have difficulty committing to gym membership, so why on earth they imagine they make the sort of commitment a tattoo requires is unfathomable. Things change. Plans Change. Times change. And bodies sag. What was once chiseled and buffed in former years becomes visual proof of the cruelty of ageing. There’s a lot of it in Cromer and yes, it befouls my eyes.

I’ve just found out from the BBC that

 Boris Johnson has promised the “beginning of a new golden age”, as he made his first Commons statement as PM.

 And a large part of me thinks, is that such a good thing? At the moment I’m reading ‘The Watchers: A secret history of the reign of Elizabeth 1’ by Stephen Alford, and whatever thoughts I had about her reign being a ‘golden age’ is largely a creation of benevolent historians. From the outset, her legitimacy to be queen was questioned, England was isolated from Europe and the country was beset by plots, intrigues and treachery. Does any of this seem pertinent to now?

 Or we could call to mind Harriet Jones vaunted ‘golden age’ when she was Prime Minister. Admittedly she was a character in ‘ Doctor Who’ but as many others have pointed out, Boris Johnson is a creation of Boris Johnson. But whilst she was P.M of a Britain in a parallel world, who knows what planet Boris is on?

But the BBC is reporting this morning that:

Like she needed to, judging by the things he’s said and done!

The news yesterday that Boris Jonson likes to make model trains and buses, and paints on to them happy, smiling passengers, made me think of a dark episode in human history when vans were similarly adorned with happy, smiling passengers to reassure those herded into them.

My mind made an instantaneous connection between them, so what does that say about me?

The problem in choosing the lesser of two evils is that either way, one chooses evil and thinking about this in relation to the Tory party leadership contest, the eventual winner will still be a Tory. It’s like a political ‘Stockholm Syndrome’, wherein you think that if befriend your kidnapper they’ll be nice to you. And conveniently overlook the fact that if the ransom isn’t paid, sooner or later their going to kill you.

And writing of death puts me in mind of a radically new way not only to run the Tory leadership contest, but also to increase public interest. Have a televised, fight to the death format. No weapons, no time limit and no rules. Then we’d see how much people wanted it. Just all the hopefuls, in an arena, until only one remained.

I’d watch that. They all say how much they want a real leadership contest, not a coronation don’t they?

Although if we applied it to the Labour Party, well, Jeremy Corbyn wouldn’t be odds on favourite. Now Tom Watson, he looks quite handy, although it’s a pity Dan Jarvis is no longer a Labour MP, seeing as he’s now Mayor of Sheffield. He was a Major in the Paratroop Regiment and he’s only 46!