Mr David Cameron,
Or should I call you ‘Dave’? Whatever. Like many in this land, I’ve got a ton of appropriate pseudonyms for you. But it is ‘Prime Minister’ – that leader label that I find wholly inappropriate. You wear it like a size twelve dress on a broomstick and, even if it did fit you better, it still wouldn’t suit you. No tailoring, no shaping belt, nor accessorizing scarf is going to hide that you are unsuitable for the responsibility of high office.
You are a vessel of utter neglect and incompetence.
I find the way you run the country to be so ridiculously inept as to be obscene. I’m looking at all the false economy; the division you are sowing; the forced decline in living standards; the outrageous arrogance of your ministers; your insultingly simplistic mindset; your superficial value-system and arbitrary beliefs; your ignorance that rides roughshod over nuance; your selective memory; your determination to preserve the neoconservative status quo; your obsession with growth and competition; your fixation with privatising everything. Your disingenuous attempts to dress up an entropic laissez-faire as liberty and choice while ensuring our national impoverishment are an affront to our intelligence.
You practise malfeasance on such an extraordinarily wide scale that I wonder: are you really that relentlessly useless or are you actually wicked? Either way, Call-me-Dave, you must know that you are abusing high office and serving us bunch of crap. I think historians and the social commentariat will be debating it for decades. What a legacy, eh, Dave?
Whichever it is; whether you are choreographing or surrendering, it’s grotesque. You and your party are becoming an unbearable burden on the citizens of this country. It will take an unfathomably high velocity to escape the damage you are wreaking with your ludicrous policies.
Your maladministration is toe-curling and, given your insistence on strutting your same rude, crude, feudal guff on the world stage, it is also excruciatingly embarrassing. Even would-be demigod, Tony Blair, managed to hide the full weight of his messiah-for-hire part until after he’d left office! You seem to have no such patience – nor even the sense! You’re a bloody fool and, whether you mean to be or not, a bloody dangerous fool.
If you go now, quickly and quietly, with at least an attempt at a graceful exit, perhaps the contempt, the scorn, the disrespect, the intense dislike, growing in the hearts and minds of the population: that may yet be diluted.
I suggest you leave, Mr Cameron; that you lead your neoliberal self and your party, towards your last hope at some honour and dignity. That way, Britain and her souls may recover some of theirs.