Oh how brave and noble Theresa May is. After several decades of wrangling about the Tory-led shit show that is Brexit the Prime Minister came up with one last desperate ruse to get her half-arsedly negotiated deal through Parliament. She promised to leave office early.
As sacrifices go this was right up there with anything Jack Bauer came up with in seven seasons (or was it eight?) of 24. Anyone remember when he offered to fly the plane carrying the deadly weapon of mass destruction into the desert? Surely that was the end of Jack? But oh no because fortunately the terminally ill George Mason has sneaked on board the plane and offered to complete the mission. From there it was a no-brainer. Jack lived to fight another day of high-octane ant-terroring.
As I write May has also survived her own offer to fall upon her metaphorical sword. That’s because the Speaker of the House John Bercow remains adamant that May’s twice defeated deal would not return for a third outing without significant change. And quite right too. You’re not fooling anyone with a trilogy in which parts two and three are exactly the same as part one. Even fans of superhero movies wouldn’t tolerate that level of audience insult.
Undeterred the major players in the race to succeed May if and when she does leave Downing Street rubbed their hands with movie villain glee at news of a possible Tory leadership contest. The 16th century’s Jacob Rees-Mogg, a man brilliantly described on Twitter earlier as a ‘haunted dildo’ threw his top hat into the ring straight away, pledging to back May’s deal ‘to save Brexit’, while just 24 hours on from declaring that May’s deal would leave us ‘screwed’ top screwer and all around buffoon Boris Johnson did likewise. A third player, Michael Gove, has not commented at the time of writing but no doubt he’s just waiting for his wife Sarah Vine to tell him which way to vote. There’s no accounting for tastes and love is blind but Vine must be a quite preposterous individual if we’re judging her on the basis that she chooses to wake up next to Gove every morning. Most people would rather be woken by the smell of their own body waste.
Eventually, one of these three absolute whoppers looks certain to replace May. Her entire three-year tenure has been dominated by trips to Brussels to try to negotiate a Brexit she campaigned against in the run up to David Cameron’s ill-advised referendum. She hasn’t been able to do it, not only because she’s an incompetent bell-end but also because it was a bloody difficult task. Even for a bloody difficult woman. In the immediate aftermath of the referendum Cameron had done a Reggie Perrin as it became quite clear that even the finest political and economic minds couldn’t predict the consequences of leaving the EU. What chance did Dave from Harrogate have of making an informed decision. All the referendum did was give Dave from Harrogate a voice with which to rail against foreigners because, after all, couldn’t everyone else see that if we continued with our EU membership we’d all be living under Sharia Law by a week next Tuesday?
Before the official ousting of May and a Tory leadership election can get under way there are still some annoying hurdles for the leading Tory boys to negotiate. Negotiate? Perhaps that’s the wrong choice of word. Anyway, no fewer than eight Brexit related solutions were voted on by MPs tonight, none of which were able to secure a majority, All of which means that we are likely to see May occupying number 10 for some time to come, much to the disgust of the circling vultures. That the Tory Party are trying to use the biggest political issue in the UK for a generation to sort out their own domestic squabbling is one of the most shameful scenarios in British history. There we were spending three years worrying about what the effects of Brexit might be and it turns out that the real issue was about which right wing narcissist will get to take over when the mess is finally cleaned up.
A Tory leadership election seems such a humdrum way to sort that dispute in any case. Why not reflect the times by having them compete in a televised baking contest instead. Something like the Great Celebri-Tory Snake Off. Prue Leith could announce the results 12 hours early just to give it that authentic Bake Off feel. And all the proceeds would of course go to good old Tory causes like The Already Massively Wealthy.
Failing that, and if I could choose my own method of who should replace May, it would be something more like The Hunger Games. A fight to the death within the grounds of the Palace of Westminster with the last man standing sent to Panem to face President Donald Sutherland to negotiate a trade deal. All the while not knowing whether fellow Tribute Peeta would be a help, a hindrance or else just tear off the new PM’s head in a fit of inexplicable rage.
So as we reach the end of March those wags in the gutter press that have helped whip up this Dog’s Brexit are already telling us it’s the end of May. Unless that happens by way of a General Election and the public get the chance to oust this medieval austerity-loving government, sat on the top of their cash pile telling poor people that their greed is crashing the economy, I’m not all that excited about it.