I'll start by apologising sincerely. I've been consciously trying to avoid the political blog posts for a while, they weren't doing either my writing or mental health any good whatsoever. Plus, it does you good to have a bit of a think about other things. But, to paraphrase Michael Corleone: just when I think I got out, Michael Gove does something stupid and it pulls me back in.
You see, I've been trying to put my finger on what, beyond the obvious, has been aggravating me about the conduct of the Conservative and Unionist Party of Great Britain in this election so far. The general high-handedness, boorish sneering and pompous insincerity is pretty much par for the course. Yes, Rees-Mogg's cracking Grenfell zinger was a pretty spectacular example of staggering insensitivity, one for the ages but given that he was whisked swiftly away and hasn't been seen since it seemed that someone at CCHQ had their head screwed on, it's all been fairly muted, safety first. The strategy largely seems to be if we can get to 11th Dec without Boris using the n word we'll probably win.
But there was something irking me that I was struggling to pin down, something lurking beneath the surface, something new, something even more annoying than usual, a new, subtle flavour of crap.
Then, with Michael Gove's unutterably lame attempted intervention at Thursday night's climate change debate (for those unaware, short version is: Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson decides to duck climate change debate, aware that he'll be crucified. Tries to send his sodding Dad and Gove instead, C4 says no dice chummy the clue's in the word Leaders, Tories kick off, claiming they're being silenced) the penny dropped. This is the election of People Who Think They're Clever But Aren't or, to be more precise: The Election of Know It All Teenagers. How else to explain all this adolescent posturing? Hahah, they'll be saying to each other, people are talking about the stunt, not our lack of grasp of the issues. Classic, guys absolutely classic. Yes, dear Reader, I'm afraid that we're in the grip of people who were told they were clever at school or university and haven't learned a single thing since. We all know you haven't got a grasp of the issues, we don't need to talk about it. We're talking about your stunt because we're gobsmacked by its twattishness.
You all remember the guy at Uni who thought he was the smartest fucker in the room, the one who knew more, knew better than anyone else?
(Yes, readers of long acquaintance, I'm aware that was probably me, the point is that I've learned a bit in the meantime, these haven't)
Yep that guy is Gove, and James Cleverly, and Boris Johnson, even poor little Matty Hancock, and none of them have learned a thing since. Routines that impressed their peers thirty years ago are doggedly stuck to. Obfuscation, evasion, refusal to think they might be wrong. It's possible to bluster through an undergrad argument on lies and erudition (trust me, I did it a lot), but there comes a point when you need to add a little substance, some consistency, preferably some actual facts. They, alas, don't have them. But what they do have is a sense of entitlement, and the confidence that comes from thirty years of getting your own way without being held to account.
So when Cleverly gets wheeled out to brazen out whatever lying piece of lying lying those clever chaps at CCHQ have come up with this week, be it doctoring videos, or changing the name of their twitter feed to "Fact Check UK" or just plain, good old fashioned lying, he doesn't bother to try and defend it, he just says it didn't happen. Human beanbag, "Bumboys" Johnson just says he never lies. Little Matty Hancock faithfully repeats the lies the big boys told him to say, the coke-raddled, Stormzy-baiting Gove (and is there any more soul-shrivelling moment of this entire sorry farrago than Colombian Pob tweeting "I set trends dem man copy"? reader, I died) rocks up to a debate he's not supposed to be a part of, already miked up with a three man camera crew in tow, like a sex-pest Louis Theroux and then parps on about being oppressed by the liberal media, all the while having a good old chuckle to himself at what a clever chap he is, that's shown them, let's threaten Channel 4 with closure for good measure. At least Sajid Javid had the grace to look like he was dead inside when defending "Letterboxes" Johnson's rampant Islamophobia.
All these stunts, and they are simply that, are designed to do one thing and one thing only, distract from the cold, hard, inalienable facts that nine years of Tory rule have ruined the country, decimated public services, tanked the economy and set the nation at each other's throats; and that another term of these insufferable idiots would be even worse, as they parcel up what's left of public life and sell it piecemeal to the Americans for a knock-down price, as they roll back decades of hard-won workers rights, as they let finance even further off the leash, as they cut us adrift from social liberal norms. And after they've pulled one, they sit back, and chuckle, these overgrown teenagers, giggling as they troll their own people.
Because, much like the sixth form bully who mocks your music choices (yes, probably me), or the smartarse undergrad who belittles your hard work (maybe not) these emotionally stunted adolescents are incapable of expressing themselves in any terms other than their own superiority, they've never had to learn another way of doing things. And so they carry on, wrecking the joint and laughing about it, because what could we possibly do to stop them? We're not as clever as them.
You see, I've been trying to put my finger on what, beyond the obvious, has been aggravating me about the conduct of the Conservative and Unionist Party of Great Britain in this election so far. The general high-handedness, boorish sneering and pompous insincerity is pretty much par for the course. Yes, Rees-Mogg's cracking Grenfell zinger was a pretty spectacular example of staggering insensitivity, one for the ages but given that he was whisked swiftly away and hasn't been seen since it seemed that someone at CCHQ had their head screwed on, it's all been fairly muted, safety first. The strategy largely seems to be if we can get to 11th Dec without Boris using the n word we'll probably win.
But there was something irking me that I was struggling to pin down, something lurking beneath the surface, something new, something even more annoying than usual, a new, subtle flavour of crap.
Then, with Michael Gove's unutterably lame attempted intervention at Thursday night's climate change debate (for those unaware, short version is: Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson decides to duck climate change debate, aware that he'll be crucified. Tries to send his sodding Dad and Gove instead, C4 says no dice chummy the clue's in the word Leaders, Tories kick off, claiming they're being silenced) the penny dropped. This is the election of People Who Think They're Clever But Aren't or, to be more precise: The Election of Know It All Teenagers. How else to explain all this adolescent posturing? Hahah, they'll be saying to each other, people are talking about the stunt, not our lack of grasp of the issues. Classic, guys absolutely classic. Yes, dear Reader, I'm afraid that we're in the grip of people who were told they were clever at school or university and haven't learned a single thing since. We all know you haven't got a grasp of the issues, we don't need to talk about it. We're talking about your stunt because we're gobsmacked by its twattishness.
You all remember the guy at Uni who thought he was the smartest fucker in the room, the one who knew more, knew better than anyone else?
(Yes, readers of long acquaintance, I'm aware that was probably me, the point is that I've learned a bit in the meantime, these haven't)
Yep that guy is Gove, and James Cleverly, and Boris Johnson, even poor little Matty Hancock, and none of them have learned a thing since. Routines that impressed their peers thirty years ago are doggedly stuck to. Obfuscation, evasion, refusal to think they might be wrong. It's possible to bluster through an undergrad argument on lies and erudition (trust me, I did it a lot), but there comes a point when you need to add a little substance, some consistency, preferably some actual facts. They, alas, don't have them. But what they do have is a sense of entitlement, and the confidence that comes from thirty years of getting your own way without being held to account.
So when Cleverly gets wheeled out to brazen out whatever lying piece of lying lying those clever chaps at CCHQ have come up with this week, be it doctoring videos, or changing the name of their twitter feed to "Fact Check UK" or just plain, good old fashioned lying, he doesn't bother to try and defend it, he just says it didn't happen. Human beanbag, "Bumboys" Johnson just says he never lies. Little Matty Hancock faithfully repeats the lies the big boys told him to say, the coke-raddled, Stormzy-baiting Gove (and is there any more soul-shrivelling moment of this entire sorry farrago than Colombian Pob tweeting "I set trends dem man copy"? reader, I died) rocks up to a debate he's not supposed to be a part of, already miked up with a three man camera crew in tow, like a sex-pest Louis Theroux and then parps on about being oppressed by the liberal media, all the while having a good old chuckle to himself at what a clever chap he is, that's shown them, let's threaten Channel 4 with closure for good measure. At least Sajid Javid had the grace to look like he was dead inside when defending "Letterboxes" Johnson's rampant Islamophobia.
All these stunts, and they are simply that, are designed to do one thing and one thing only, distract from the cold, hard, inalienable facts that nine years of Tory rule have ruined the country, decimated public services, tanked the economy and set the nation at each other's throats; and that another term of these insufferable idiots would be even worse, as they parcel up what's left of public life and sell it piecemeal to the Americans for a knock-down price, as they roll back decades of hard-won workers rights, as they let finance even further off the leash, as they cut us adrift from social liberal norms. And after they've pulled one, they sit back, and chuckle, these overgrown teenagers, giggling as they troll their own people.
Because, much like the sixth form bully who mocks your music choices (yes, probably me), or the smartarse undergrad who belittles your hard work (maybe not) these emotionally stunted adolescents are incapable of expressing themselves in any terms other than their own superiority, they've never had to learn another way of doing things. And so they carry on, wrecking the joint and laughing about it, because what could we possibly do to stop them? We're not as clever as them.
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