England is fortunate to have a hysterical scholar as Prime Minister during this difficult stage in its passage to renovatio as a fully sovereign, trading nation, and the sovereign equal to the tyrannical European Union.
One can too readily imagine the farce and spectacle which would be playing out daily if the prime minister was one of those (mercifully few in number) not from the hallowed playing fields of Eton. Just imagine the fried Mars Bar mess right now if a common man with a common mans’ education were responsible for saving our precious Union?
“You do not save a state by state funding it” – Athelwoof Vulturis, Milton Keynes, 1023 AD.
Nicola Sturgeon must know she has picked a poor moment under a dimming sun to attempt her Braveheart moment. It is unlikely that lost child of the colonies will play her in “Braveheart 2 – This Time It’s Personal” (due for release 2029). Who will touch the part when it is already clear that Boris Johnson is writing the narrative arc?
Boris Johnson, here is the man of the moment. The second of his creation, when his still tender beak began to break apart the fragile eggshell of (charity status) private education the story of Scotland was written. He emerged not as a rooster, but a Phoenix of feudalism cut from the cloth of the Hammer of the Scots himself. Indeed those given to spiritualism believe he is the reincarnation of Edward 1st. Minus the adoration and devotion to one spouse. It is not surprising something was lost in the passage from one earthly vehicle to another. Happily it was not his ambition. Nor his cunning.
And he must now raise the hammer and crush down in the drive for Scottish independence. He has started well and in character. He voices a desire to “love bomb” the naive nationalists while simultaneously letting loose firebrand Patel in Sturgeon’s own burgh. Crafty is not the word! With one stroke yesterday he made a fool of the enemy. Huzzah!
He must succeed in his crusade. It is vital. If he does not the English will have to face themselves in the mirror and gaze honestly at what they see. Stripped of the civilising mirage of fellowship across nations. The illusion gifted by enmities settled at surface level.
Keep the haze in front of Albion’s orbs Prime Minister! Let the reckoning our unreconstructed, medieval barbarism demands wait for another day, another era.
And why not treat yourself to some new cushions while you’re at it?
