When meaningful is meaningless
And meaningless is meaningful,
Political incorrectness has gone mad;
When the Government is synonymous
With conquering ignoramuses
Why are these Brexits still so fucking sad?
Why are Brexits so unhappy? They won. Scrutiny and accountability are fundamental to Sovereignty and Democracy. Well, it might be rather late in the Brexit day but that is exactly what is happening. Brexits said they were fighting to take back control but they are busily trying to give it away with no discernment, whatsoever. And they say it is the remoaners who are not patriotic…
On Twitter, @ LeaveEUOfficial even précis a link to a ‘Westmonster’ post, today (I won’t dignify it with a direct link), with “The 15 Tory MPs who voted against enshrining the Brexit date into UK law are the cancer within their party and traitors to their country. Total disregard for the people’s democratic choice”
It’s that kind of crazy-arsed paranoia that started all this catastrophic crap.
In pride of place
That cut your nose to spite your face
And say you did not recognise it, anyway
Of all the scapegoats in your myth
Did make yourselves its greatest gift
Of value in the tale
”At the heart of all this is the political irony that defines our times: that the very thing so many places voted for makes any attempt at their area’s revival even less likely.” – John Harris (Guardian)
”So having advised investors to remove their money from the UK, the Rt. Hon. John [Brexiteer] Redwood told the UK government to go for ‘hard Brexit’”. – Frances Coppola (Forbes)
Brexiteer James Dyson says he wants to make it “easier to hire and fire” people and for the government to scrap corporation tax (Metro) – Then “warns government not to cut farm subsidies”, his total farming estate – Beeswax Dyson Farming – is the biggest in the UK (Farmers Weekly)
Well done, Homespun
Ten times the burden on our young
New depths to plumb
The right to be somebody else’s never-setting Sun
No actual benefit – zip, nada, none
No fun beneath
Your unopposable thumb.
You who think themselves hunted by witches; who
need their empathy spoon-fed: you really cannot tell
if you have abused your power or pushed your luck?
You don’t understand where her boundaries are, anymore?
Why, poor lamb, they are where they have always been,
if you would only
stop getting your clues and taking your cues
from a world of patriarchal design.
Stop looking up for her. Stop looking down at her. She is right here. Meet her eyes: she knows
you are both in a prison of Fathers’ makings
and there is a limit to how much she can keep saving you.