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Modern life

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Alpha Stock Images - http://alphastockimages.com/ I am going to do something that I should probably not do – something that I have largely avoided doing over the past couple of years. However – times are critical and needs must!

It is part of our wonderful human nature that we – from time to time – make bad decisions or bad choices. Sometimes these decisions affect other people to their – and to our – detriment.

Making a bad decision does not make one a bad – nor a stupid – person. Sometimes we are big enough to acknowledge when we have made a mistake. Other times we rigidly refuse to do so regardless of the outcome. It matters not, however, whether we are in denial or not – a bad decision remains a bad decision regardless of whether we accept the fact or not.

Further – the fact that a bad decision may have been taken by a very large number of people – maybe even by a majority of those who had a say in it – still does not alter that fact that it is a bad decision!

There is a reason why in the United Kingdom and in Canada we have representative democracies rather than direct democracies. It is characteristic of representative democracy is that while the representatives are elected by the people to act in the people’s interest, they retain the freedom to exercise their own judgement as how best so to do – with the express purpose of protecting the nation and its people against choices that may be self-harming.

The use of referenda in such democracies is a very dangerous practice and enormous care should be exercised whenever such a prospect is raised. There is a good reason, for example, why there has never been a referendum in the UK or Canada in favour of capital punishment.

The resolution to leave the European Union was a bad decision; the suggestion that we should leave without a deal is a far, far worse one. Virtually nobody who will have to operate under such an outcome thinks that to do so would be a good idea. Neither business nor workers do – pace today’s joint call by the CBI and the TUC. Scientists, academics, economists, healthcare providers and on and on… no-one does. The Europeans don’t. Our parliament as a body does not. Polls (as unreliable as they are) show that a considerable majority of the population does not.

The only group that positively pushes the idea of a ‘no-deal Brexit’ is that hard core of right-wing free marketeers who see opportunities for themselves and their like to profit from the carnage, much in the way that spivs and profiteers do in times of conflict or war. Should one have any doubts at all as to the likelihood that these people truly have the good of the nation at heart one only need look at who they are and at how they have acted over the past three years and more.

They are not on the side of ordinary people!

In spite of everything, however, the country is slowly sliding towards a hard exit and time is running out. Protestations that all we have to do is to believe in ourselves and that all will turn out alright in the long run are hopelessly naive (or downright mendacious!). There has been some revisionist thought in recent years that the appalling decisions taken in 1914 which led Europe to sleep-walk into the Great War have been somehow vindicated by later outcomes. No-one with any awareness or compassion believes this for a moment – and there is a very real chance that in years to come a decision to crash out of the European Union without a deal would come to be regarded in the same light.

I urge those who are able to consider doing the following two things:

Sign the petition to revoke Article 50.

Take part in the march on Saturday 23rd in support a final say.

Before it is too late!

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Give us a sign

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidThere are major differences in house construction between Canada and the UK. When it comes to individual dwellings it is true that there is now a fair bit of wood framed construction in the old country, but here is BC there is virtually nothing else – certainly if the construction were done in recent times.

Such differences extend also to the estate itself. In Canada they do not go in for boundary fences… walls… hedges… dividers of any sort. The norm is that the open space between houses is just that – open. We have a lawn between us and our nearest neighbours with the actual boundary running somewhere down the middle of it. When either of us cuts the grass we make a ‘mood’ judgement as to how far to go. If we are feeling generous we take in an extra couple of metres to save our neighbours having to do it. If, on the other hand, we are feeling surly… or lazy… we don’t.

In many cases there is little or no division between individual properties and the public road either. As it happens we have a screen of shrubs, bushes and trees in front of our domicile, but many do not. They are simply open to the public in a way that would make many Brits feel somewhat uncomfortable (I am trying very hard not to slip into Brexit metaphors here – but it is not easy!).

One side-effect of this lack of dividing infrastructure is that there is often nothing at the front of the property to which to affix a sign bearing the house number or name. Our property has its number displayed on the front of the building itself, but as the house is set back somewhat it is not very easy to see from the road.

I seem to recall that in many parts of England there is a fairly relaxed attitude as to whether or not house numbers are prominently displayed. Here in BC it is considered important for emergency reasons that each property has a sign that is clearly visible from the public road. These are known as 911 Address Signs and they usually take the form of a vertical reflective sign at the very edge of the roadside. Given the relative speed with which wooden framed house can be destroyed by fire it makes good sense that the emergency services be given every opportunity to locate a property as quickly as possible.

For reasons unknown we did not inherit such a sign but with the advent of The Girl’s new venture looming it seemed important to make our residence more visible to the world.

Given that these things are everywhere I assumed that they would be easy to source. They are not – and I guess that the fact that most properties already have them means that there is little demand for new ones. Some Fire-Halls offer programs through which they may be obtained but ours did not obviously do so.

I eventually found a source online through one of Amazon’s third party suppliers. I duly placed an order and sat back to await the manufacturer making contact to check the details.

I received instead an email telling me that the product had been shipped!

Huh?!

I replied to the email, enquiring as to how they had managed ship my order without first asking me what house number the sign was for.

“Oh!”, came the reply. “There was an option on the order form if you wanted to customise the sign”.

I pointed out that I did not consider having the right number on my sign to exactly be ‘customisation’, that the option on the form was not at all obvious and asked who in their right mind would order an address sign with some random number on it anyway?

They seemed to take my point and agreed to refund the purchase price.

“What should I do with the random sign?”, I enquired. They told me that I could keep it.

Fortunately I discovered that – with a little careful effort – the numbers could be scraped off without causing damage and that Staples could supply suitable replacements – this time with the correct digits. A Home Depot mailbox post, some brass brackets and screws, a little white paint and a club hammer later we had a new 911 sign.

Now – ain’t that pretty?!

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Image from PixabayI have done my damnedest not to burden these postings with further personal diatribes on the state of British politics (in particular with regard to Brexit) though I couldn’t help but agree with some commentaries this week that made mileage from references to the Bill Murray movie from which this post derives its title.

I am, however, frequently asked by bemused Canadians to explain what on earth it is all about – and I always do my best to give satisfaction. To that end I thought these extracts from a recent column by Rafael Behr in The Guardian (Westminster has known the options since 2016. Which Brexit does it want?) might go some little way towards clarification…

…or perhaps not!

The backstory:

“Brexit, as experienced by EU leaders, is the same banal dialogue played on a loop. It goes roughly as follows:

UK: We are leaving.

EU: We wish you wouldn’t, but if you must, there is a process with one fundamental principle: you cannot retain privileges of EU membership without an obligation to uphold EU law. With that in mind, here are the options …

UK: We do not like those options and refuse to choose between them.

EU: No other options exist.

UK: We believe they do.

EU: Tell us what they are.

(At this point the UK government wastes months arguing over whether it is better to use a jet pack or a magic feather to fly over a rainbow.)

UK: We would like to continue enjoying privileges of EU membership without obligations to uphold EU law.

EU: No!”

Behr rightly points out that – given where we now are – there are only three possible options:

“Option one: exit with a deal almost exactly like the one May has negotiated. By deal here, I mean the withdrawal agreement – the legal text that serves as safe passage to a transition period from where other options for the long term can be developed. The withdrawal agreement can be ratified or not. Its many deficiencies, including the notorious backstop, are intrinsic to Brexit and would be the same for any party under any leader. Changing the prime minister doesn’t change EU law.

Option two: membership of the EU – the best available outcome in strategic and economic terms, but one that incurs serious political cost by enraging already furious leavers.

Option three: exit with no deal. An appalling idea recommended only by fools, liars and vandals who relish chaos for perverse ideological reasons.”

How might any of these options be achieved?:

“Option one requires approval of the withdrawal agreement and an implementation bill in parliament.

Option two is reached by rescinding the article 50 notice, which should, for democracy’s sake, be done after a referendum, although the result of that is unpredictable.

Option three is easiest. It involves carrying on as we are, bickering about process, failing to cross tribal party lines in pursuit of consensus, refusing to be honest about what is available and watching the clock tick down.

Those are the choices. They aren’t complicated. The EU side identified them two years ago and spelled them out clearly. The British public is bored watching their politicians argue about the wrong questions. The EU is bored watching British politicians refuse to level with the public about the right questions. Everyone should be afraid of what happens in the absence of clear answers, because disaster by inaction is the default option.”

All clear now?

Splendid!…

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Image from PXHereThis is a Canada Post post…

…and this will not be the first time that I have muttered darkly about the services offered by Canada’s postal office – and in particular the vagaries in the delivery thereof.

I still haven’t quite gotten over having our doorstep deliveries whisked away from us when we had barely had a chance to get used to them, to be replaced by an impersonal postbox stack (as decreed by the now recently discontinued communal postbox program – and if it is no longer policy why can’t we have our home delivery back?!) at the wrong end of our cul de sac (dead-end road). That I now get some much needed exercise every day and the opportunity to say ‘hi’ to our neighbours is completely beside the point.

Regular dippers in the pool of these dribblings might remember previous  grumbles concerning the problems that I had getting Canada Post to stop delivering communications for one of the former owners (now deceased) of this abode – or the time that it took so long to deliver an item that I had dashed near expired myself in the meantime.

Things have been busy of late, which is how the run in to Christmas has snuck up on us virtually unnoticed this year. I realised somewhat abruptly that if I wished – as I do – to fire off Christmas cards to my nearest and dearest in the UK I had jolly well better get on with it – particularly as Canada Post’s army of workers have of late been indulging themselves in industrial action. A more cynical expat from the UK might feel almost nostalgic for the days of militant postal workers and wildcat strikes causing millions of urgent correspondences to be dumped in sacks at the back of  the sorting offices (before Thatcher put a stop to all that ‘sort of thing’!) – but not me, of course…

No, my first eager move was – as ever – to trust the efficacy of the InterWebNet. I surfed to the Canada Post site and looked eagerly for the banner headline advertising last posting dates for Christmas.

There wasn’t one!

In fact, the whole site looked distinctly un-Christmassy. I used the search box to look for ‘Christmas’. I was offered some stamps!

I tried ‘Post dates for Christmas’ and was directed to a page telling me how to write a letter to Santa! I don’t know about you, but my Santa writing days are long behind me and, anyway, surely the kids these days send a text or use whatever messaging app is currently trending.

I searched on and on, but to no avail. Canada Post is not giving anything away when it comes to last posting dates for Christmas. Realising I had better get my skates on I rapidly scribbled a whole bunch of cards for the UK and elsewhere and headed for my local Canada Post office. The staff there were most helpful with regard to selling me stamps, helping me to stick them onto my cards and popping them in the box for me. However, when I enquired as to why their website was so lacking in festive spirit – not to mention essential information – they informed me that as a result of the backlogs following the strike they were not guaranteeing any delivery times – to anywhere!

There was – therefore – no point in advertising such!

Bottom line for those eagerly awaiting a card from the wilds of (west coast) Canada is that one will get to you – eventually (probably!)…

Previous advice re: holding breath is still pertinent.

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Photo by Andy Dawson ReidIf you know about the rice trick then there is a good chance that you – or someone of your acquaintance – has done that which I was unfortunate/careless enough to do a couple of weeks back… to drop my mobile device into a liquid! In my case it was into a hot bath…

OK – I feel the need to explain how a Capricorn such as myself (and thus naturally cautious in all things) contrived to do something so careless/stupid. Well – towards the end of the week I find myself pretty tired these days. Thursdays are particularly hard work, starting as they do with a fairly tough exercise class, continuing with a quick shower (no time for lunch!) and a rush to the college at which I teach for two and a half hours of classes and lab supervision followed by an hour or so in my office and on occasion a meeting of some sort… and then on some Thursdays on to something else in the evening.

Come Fridays I am usually ready for some relaxation – but not until domestic chores, shopping and cooking prep are done (yes – poor me!). Anyway – there eventually comes a point at which I like to immerse myself gratefully into nice hot bath.

If The Girl is out and about – as on this occasion – I leave my mobile phone somewhere to hand in case she should call. And, of course, call she did. Unfortunately I was fast asleep in the bath at this point. Being wrenched abruptly from my hard-earned slumber by the ring tone I grabbed sleepily for the phone with wet hands, jabbed at the speakerphone button and watched horrified as the device slipped from my grasp like a bar of soap and tumbled into the tub.

Fortunately instinct cut in at this point and I whipped the phone out of the water and powered it down, before getting as much water off it as I could with materials to hand. Once out of the tub I naturally turned to that source of all knowledge(!) – the InterWebNet – and discovered the rice trick.

This is the one where one gets as much moisture out of the gadget as possible by dabbing at it and turning it this way and that, before burying it in a container filled with rice. There it must be left for 24 – 48 hours so that the rice can absorb any moisture that remains in the device. Then, if one is lucky, it can be powered up again to see what (if any) damage has been done.

Of course, it helps hugely if the device is similar to my Galaxy S7 – which is advertised as being ‘water resistant’.

The good news in this case – which I sure will delight one and all – is that my phone suffered no ill effects at all and continues providing the excellent service that it has done to this point.

Phew!!

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Bob!

Public Domain Image from Max PixelThis peaceful neck of the woods has recently been the scene of local elections and in the weeks running up to polling day – as it the way in these parts – verges, hedgerows and lawns slowly disappeared under a plethora of campaign signs and placards urging the local electorate to get out and vote.

In this day and age – and with times being what they are – it is hardly surprising that it is not always easy to encourage people to exercise their democratic right, no matter how important it might be for them so to do. I am certainly saying nothing against our local politicians – if for no other reason than that I lack the necessary knowledge of them – but on the wider scene the political classes have done so much damage to themselves in recent decades that it should be no surprise that the whole damned lot of them have become anathema (or an anathema – to your taste!).

Now – I cannot yet in any case vote in Canadian federal elections – I would needs be a citizen so to do – but I have a feeling that I could have voted in the recent local poll. That I did not do so is a sign that I am not yet sufficiently ‘au courant’ with the ins and outs of local politics, which is certain a failing on my part that I intend to rectify before the next such occasion.

One of the more prominent placards planted on the roadside not far from here, near to one of our bigger intersections (always a relative term of course) advocated the re-election of a man who apparently goes by the name of ‘Bob’ (that indeed being his name) whose surname I will not reveal (to protect the innocent!). Having dealt with the matter of the man’s name the sign simply read:

The only Bob on the Ballot!

Given the current febrile political climate in many parts of the globe it occurred to me that this might indeed be just as good a reason to vote for the man as anything else that might have been said.

It is not often that one gets a laugh from politics these days!

Go Bob!

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There has of late been in these parts (as in many other places in the world) much to-do regarding the evils of non-biodegradable plastics. One area of particular concern has been their use for plastic drinking straws. Apparently Americans (which we are not – but who will do for the purposes of illustration) ‘consume’ more than five hundred million plastic straws every day, many of which end up (one way or another) in the oceans – the resultant micro-plastic fragments being ultimately ingested by seabirds, turtles and other marine life-forms.

This is – needless to say – not good!

Now – I myself very rarely ever use such (or indeed any) straws (the occasional paper parasol being an entirely different matter!) but the Kickass Canada Girl does – and she is naturally concerned. Although she fully understands that many purveyors of smoothies, soft drinks and other liquid comestibles are no longer willing to supply a plastic contrivance by which means these delights may be inhaled, she is a little taken aback that the vendors sometimes fail to provide a suitable waxed paper alternative instead.

Accepting that neither option is ideal, however, The Girl set about identifying a more permanent solution. These days – it seems – such can be found by recourse to the newly popular stainless steel drinking straw.

Since The Girl’s requirement is that such an implement be portative – and would indeed be carried around continually – it must needs come supplied with a suitable carrying case. This would ensure that – when thrust into the depths of a lady’s reticule – the item would not become sullied by any detritus that had collected therein. As a gentlemen I merely take the lady’s word that such eventualities do occur!

After some study on the InterWebNet (of course!) a suitable item was identified  – supplied by a local Canadian company entitled ‘CurrentStraw‘. Just how local I was shortly to discover.

The Girl has a not insignificant birthday approaching and dropped hints that she would like one (or two) of these gizmos to form a part of her gift package. I duly went online in the late afternoon a couple of days back and placed an order.

Imagine my surprise when – upon taking out the garbage later that same evening – I found a package containing the recently ordered straws resting on our doorstep. It had clearly been hand-delivered, presumably from somewhere very close by.

Now – that’s what I call service!

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…and what do they want?

It is – I suppose – emblematic of the ‘post truth’ world in which we live that I can quite brazenly declare (as I did in my last post) that I will spare you any more of my jaundiced thoughts on the current precarious political state of the western world – only now to bring you yet another post containing just such. In my ‘defence’ I can only plead that I realised that I had not fully covered one aspect of Brexit (and beyond) that was in consequence rather letting the villains of the piece get away with things that they should not (not that they would care!).

But we wouldn’t want that, now – would we?!

I have referred more than once to the small elite who stand to gain hugely from a hard Brexit, at a cost to those more humble souls upon whose hopes and fears they have so crudely capitalised. This coterie of already rich men (some of whom are involved in politics themselves; some in the media; some in finance and the ‘service’ industries) belong to the now much despised grouping that we might for simplicity term ‘neo-liberal globalists’. With the sort of outrageous chutzpah that is typical of their breed they wave the patriotic banner and appeal to the basest instincts of the population whilst they themselves are actually citizens of the world (if of anywhere at all!) who see nations only as opportunities to enrich themselves. In truth they actually have no ties to any nation.

These people do not just want the UK to leave the European Union – they also desperately want the European project as a whole to fail. Their wish is that Europe would revert to being a continent of individual nation states doing bi-lateral deals with each other. This would give them an excuse to drive the UK to become more ‘competitive’ – by means of a bonfire of regulations, the removal of workers rights, the forcing down of wages and the privatisation of any remaining public services (including the NHS and the BBC) – in order that that we (or rather they) might benefit from the sort of cut-price deals that they would be able to strike as a result. Once the nation has been fully stripped of its assets they would simply move elsewhere and start again.

If all of this sounds familiar, then it should be. This is – after all – the same agenda that Trump is pursuing in the US and Bannon et al are hawking to fascists all around Europe.

On the subject of familiarity I would encourage the gentle reader to think back to the last era during which Europe consisted entirely of nation states intent on making deals with each other. That’s right! I refer – of course – to the decades leading up to the Great War. Perhaps a re-reading of the history of how the continent found itself sleep-walking into that most hideous and unnecessary conflict largely against its will might prove timely, though since this year marks the hundredth anniversary of the end of that war one might have thought that it would not be far from our minds. Sadly I have no doubt at all that there are some more extreme individuals involved in the current debate for whom such an outcome would not be entirely against their interests!

How is it that this small group of extremists has managed to sway so many others to support their cause, even amongst those who would themselves inevitably be the ones to lose the most. This is one of the great mysteries of our times – as is the extent of the ‘rabidity’ that these converts display. Their relentlessness reminds me of nothing so much as the assortment of flat-earthers and conspiracy theorists that I have been unfortunate enough to encounter. The Brexiteers, having spent years complaining that British jobs were being lost to immigration  – on grudgingly accepting just how badly the economy is likely to suffer in the event of a ‘hard Brexit’ – claim that the damage will be ‘worth it’ even if it means greater job losses than immigration ever caused. This simply makes no sense.

Neither – however – does the debate on democracy. It has been suggested that the current impasse may only be resolvable by means of another referendum. The Brexiteers are implacably opposed – not on the grounds that they might lose, but because in their minds this would somehow represent the denial of their democratic mandate. Surely if one referendum formed a valid part of the democratic process a further one must do also – since it would again reveal the current ‘will of the people’…

But I fear that I am now just going round in circles, which – given the very nature of the whole debate – is hardly surprising.

And with that I will now move on to more ‘important’ matters… summer & boats & music & friends & wine and so forth…

‘Nuff said!

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(Just one – honest!)

Whilst pontificating on the subject of Brexit – and I promise that I will shut up again about it hereafter – there is one other thing that exercises me greatly about the current situation in the UK – and that is the nature, the misunderstanding and the abuse of democracy.

Two years down the line from the ill-thought-out exercise that was the 2016 referendum (at which everyone claims to have known exactly for what they were voting though, of course, none of them can now agree with each other as to what that was) the loudest cries come from the Brexiteers who demand that the democratic will of the people be honoured. Any suggestion that the ‘willofthepeople’ might have shifted somewhat since the referendum is met with sneers of:

You lost. Get over it!

It seems that to these folk democracy is a static concept and that having achieved their goal in gaining a slim majority the result is now immutable. For all time!

This is, of course, the favoured modus operandi of despots, fanatics and extremists of all hues – those who fervently demand their right of access to the democratic process – once! Should power be gained history suggests that such democratic rights as exist tend mysteriously and irrevocably to be withdrawn shortly afterwards – usually as a response to some sort of emergency (such as any opposition to those now in power).

I am not, of course, for a moment suggesting any equivalence between the Brexiteers and such fascistic regimes (though you may choose to draw your own conclusions) but I am troubled that in all of this I detect a tone – a mood – of which I had not hitherto been aware. The constant chatter of the many and disparate voices of the more prosaic Brexiteers online and in the media suggest that they believe that, through the referendum, something fundamental has changed – that those like them who had previously felt deprived of a voice have now gained one – that the dis-enfranchised, the ignored and the forgotten now have a hand on the levers of power. It is clearly this to which they refer when they talk of ‘taking back control’ and their dark mutterings against any who threaten to deprive them ever again are intended to chill.

One almost feels that one should call out a warning – so oblivious are these zealots to what is really happening. They seem blind to the obvious fact that they are being ‘played‘ by a relentlessly determined and extreme ‘elite’ who are almost certainly going to be the only ones to emerge from a ‘hard‘ Brexit (should that be what the UK ends up with) better off (in their case probably considerably so).

Further – having observed the emergence of this new mood throughout significant parts of the land, those who are actually calling the shots will certainly ensure that never again is the populace as a whole given the slightest chance to repeat this ‘show of strength‘. Control may well have been ‘taken back‘ – but not by those who currently suffer the greatest democratic deficit.

When what I should almost certainly should not call ‘the great unwashed‘ discover that not only are others going to enrich themselves at their expense, but also that their glimpse at the controls of the mechanisms of state has been but a fleeting one…

…they are not going to be happy!

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I mean… WT actual F!!

I do try – tucked away as us semi-retireds are in this idyllic corner of the planet – not to let myself get too exercised about the frankly bizarre goings on in other parts of the world. Regular browsers of these meanderings may also have noticed that I have been trying in these dog days to refrain from allowing my feelings regarding the current political – er! – climate in the western world from igniting my admittedly short fuse and triggering one of my more intemperate rants on the subject.

Sometimes – however – such a zenlike state of restraint is just too difficult to maintain…

It is bad enough having to watch the orange buffoon re-invent international diplomacy by adoption of the mores of the play pen. Following the roaring ‘success’ of his apparently entirely content free summit with the North Koreans the tiny-handed blob has clearly determined to outdo himself. His recent European tour involved giving NATO a good kicking and then lying about the outcome of the summit, followed rapidly by issuing a (twitter) declaration that the European Union is an enemy of the US! He then trashed his hosts in the UK in an interview with a tabloid rag even before the visit had properly started, announcing that the Prime Minister of that independent state had got it all wrong and that she would be better replaced as leader by the rebarbative (and recently resigned) BoJo – a buffoon even more ludicrous than the 45th president himself.

All of this was, however, merely a teaser for the climax of the tour – an historic summit with Russian Premier Putin in Helsinki during which the orange one happily threw his own country under a bus over Russian interference in the 2016 US presidential election (a position from which he has inevitably retreated once again back home). It was all that Putin could do to keep the smirk off his face whilst the cameras were still rolling. Jeez!

And what of Brexit – I hear you whimper? What indeed? Watching the tories tear themselves apart as they lurch from crisis to crisis is usually cause for amusement (as it is with Labour – though somehow never quite as funny in their case) but this has gone way beyond a joke. Having spent now fully two years getting somewhere near the point that they should have been before invoking article 50 in the first place they are now rapidly approaching the terminus with all the velocity of a runaway train and the resultant cataclysmic collision is not just going to hurt the tories as a party – it is also going to cause as yet unimagined damage to the United Kingdom itself.

This worries the hard-line Brexiteers not a jot. They simply force open the throttles and pile on the steam, whistles awailing, pounding ever onward toward their unicorn-inspired ignis fatuus of a low-regulation, low-wage economic playground in which they can all filthily enrich themselves before retiring from the resultant wasteland to live abroad.

At each of their successively more outrageous stunts Prime Minister May – seemingly almost as cowardly as her predecessor – bends over and gives them what they want. What neither she nor they seem prepared to admit is that the parliamentary topography has shifted to the extent that none of the possible options for Brexit is now likely to be able to attract a majority in parliament. Do any of them care? Eyes closed, fingers firmly in ears they simply chant “Na na na na na!” at each other.

Let us be blunt – no-one has the slightest idea what will happen next or how this farce can possibly be resolved!

Thus far the EU has itself had little say in the proceedings – and nor has it yet had to. The image that comes to my mind is that of a championship golfer – or tennis player or suchlike – who, geared up for the big match, watches in amazement as their opponent simply implodes psychologically before their eyes – gifting them an unexpectedly easy win.

Seems Putin is not alone!

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