Boris Johnson was sniffing during a post-vote interview last night – did you notice? It wasn’t a sniff of superiority, a nose-in-the-air-Bullingdon-Club sniff. It was the sniff of a man who can smell over 40% of his own MPs coming after him, armed with political clubs and knives.
But hey – that’s a bit gloomy, maybe. After all, he won the vote of confidence in his party leader qualities. As his lanky ally Jacob Rees Mogg put it, one is enough. Jacob even found time for a little joke: “What did the Frenchman have for breakfast? Un oeuf.” God but you’re the gas man, Jacob.
Johnson’s supporters going into the vote looked worried and they looked even more worried coming out. Think about it: if over 40% of your colleagues thought you were a waste of space, or 40% of the kids you taught hated your guts, it wouldn’t make for harmonious working conditions. You’d only be able to withstand that level of negativity six months or a year before you’d figure working conditions were impossible and pack it in.
I hope Johnson doesn’t do that, I really do. I’d bet that Nichola Sturgeon and Michelle O’Neill have similar hopes. Not because you feel pity for the man (who could feel pity for a lying leader who thinks it’s funny to refer to the leader of the opposition as “a big girl’s blouse”?). No, not pity. Hope.
Hope that this absurd blusterer manages to stay in place during the Scottish independence that’s coming down the line, and even during the border poll that we can expect before 2030. Because Johnson is the gift that keeps on giving. The longer he stays in place, the better the chances that Scotland will vote yes in an independence referendum and we’ll finally, finally achieve Irish independence.
Because the better you get to know Johnson, the less charming he appears, the less competent, the more fake. With those qualities, Scottish and Irish voters will have no difficulty making up their minds.
The danger is that the Tories will dump him and replace him with a PM who has a moral code. Don’t do that, guys. Lie to the lying PM who thinks he’s a Churchill for the twenty-first century and tell him you love him. Let the blond liar limp on for a few more years. He is a splendid advertisement for that peculiarly English quality, a sense of entitlement.
Comments are closed.