The state of British Politics at the current moment is disgusting. It turns the stomach to think that this conniving bunch of self interested careerists are looking to hold on to power for dear life. But it’s times like this that a return to form is needed, and since I used to occasionally write politically themed pieces, I’ve decided to do one more. British Politics, Brexit and everything in between has ruined the daily news for everyone, and it’s no fault but our own.
What I’ve noticed ever since I shifted my focus to film writing is that, politics has slowly gotten worse. In turn its gotten stale and boring too. There are only so many times Jonathan Pie, Frankie Boyle and Chris Addison can crack a joke about Brexit before even I’m looking for something different. But since Brexit is taking up the mainstream media, it’s only realistic to think that the focus from entertainers will be the most pressing issue. It’s just a shame that said pressing issue is fucking boring and monotonous.
Speaking of boring and monotonous, Theresa May is hanging on like a limpet up a whales arse. She’ll go down not only as one of the most unforgettably bland Prime Ministers of our time, but also as one of the shittest. Somehow she’s managing to beat David Cameron to the world’s dullest lifestyle award. She has reigned over a clusterfuck of situations that she has failed to contain, control or even commit to.
Ignoring the obvious Brexit example, there’s the Windrush campaign, the tragedy of Grenfell, backdoor privatisation of the NHS, ongoing austerity, the ignorance of her stance on slashing police numbers, protecting her Tory compadres while the party itself seemingly implodes as they try and oust her from the party and also her blind leading the blind style of leadership. These are only the tip of the iceberg of problems the U.K. still faces under the Conservative Party.
But don’t get me wrong, Labour aren’t getting much better either. After the resounding triumph of the general election, where Labour finally saw themselves as strong as they had been under Gordon Brown, Jeremy Corbyn is managing to turn what once was a promising campaign into something as interesting as dishwater. His inabilities to capitalise on the growing pressure and resentment of the Tories is more or less proof that, even when they’re at their most successful, Labour can’t take over.
Change U.K. have 11 seats in Parliament and the sole reason for that is petty theft. They refuse to proceed with a by-election after jumping ship from their respective parties. Your constituents don’t vote for you, they vote for the party and as such have been robbed of a voice. Ironically Change U.K are robbing their constituents of a right to change.
Unfortunately it doesn’t end there, with Nigel Farage rearing his head once more like the world’s most irritating whack-a-mole. The Brexit Party is all about taking back control of Brexit negotiations, which in turn were started because we wish to take back control of something, apparently. Nice to see a man who has been in politics for so long (but is definitely not a career politician) come to defend the working class (although he himself is alike every other Tory, goose fucking, brandy filled sycophant) from time to time.
Farage is a bit like Major in Fawlty Towers. Forgetful, often incoherent and vehemently racist. He still likes a pint though so he taps into that patriotic nature like there’s no tomorrow.
There’s another piece of the invariably shit stained jigsaw puzzle, patriotism. One of the most toxic parts of this country and still the one most puzzling. Firstly, it’s just stupid to be proud of where you’re born. It’s like being proud of how tall you are or your eye colour. Not only did you not choose where you were born, but also because there’s nothing here worth being proud of. Look at the state of this country, why would anybody be proud of this place? It’s like being proud of a horse that loses the Grand National, except it lost because it’s blind, has three legs and also started the race by shitting itself and dying.
An ample and disturbing image of the country as a whole right now, Britain is certainly experiencing a handful of problems at the moment.
I suppose that’s why television and broadcasts are still kicking about, to prevent us from dying of boredom before the dementia sets in. The licence fee at this point is paid by roughly six and a half people, yet that’s still enough for the BBC to wheel out ten new seasons of Bargain Hunt. There has to be something to break up the monotony of Brexit and the depression though, and watching Bez from Happy Mondays fight Jarvis Cocker for an old lamp on a special edition of the show is enough to distract the conglomerate masses of channel flicking morons that will eat that shit up. I should know, I’m one of them.
If Theresa May were heroin, then Boris Johnson is the fucking overdose we’ve all been clenching for. Maybe Johnson wouldn’t be so bad as the next Prime Minister, his baffling attire and suitable ineptitude go hand in hand. At least he doesn’t hide his inabilities as a politician, whereas Theresa May does.
Or maybe we’ll be lucky enough to see Boris Karloff’s smug Frankenstein factory manager, Jacob Rees-Mogg, take the reigns as the Fuhrer of Britain. We’d all have to wear black funeral suits at all time and when the National Anthem played we’d force ourselves to tears and applaud our once great nation.
My money is on David Davis though, a man who looks like he’d fuck a Womble if you slipped him a packet of custard creams. Davis is unreliably fallible and is what happens when you cross sleep induced paralysis with the robot from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. His inconsistencies as the former Brexit secretary make him the ideal candidate for the role of Prime Minister, as it seems any has-been fuck up can attempt a go at the big dog job these days.
Don’t be surprised if Tony Blair shows his ugly, war criminalising face. He’ll surf in on a new wave of “Cool Britannia”, this time it’ll be called “Malnourished Anglia” and instead of Pulp, Blur and Oasis we’ll have to listen to S-Club 7 and whatever else the kids are listening to at the moment. I imagine Blair has a real chance of making a comeback in politics, so long as John Prescott is still nodding along like the fucking Churchill insurance dog.
Churchill probably would’ve drank more if he’d had to deal with this. The man aided more qualified people in sorting out World War 2 yet even I think he would’ve struggled with this political climate. I suppose it was easier back then when you could just shoot the problem away, rather than having to table it and talk about the moral and ethical gravity of each and every scenario. No, back then it was just a matter of figuring out which bomb was cheapest and most effective.
Maybe that’d be the best thing to do now, start bombing and taking pot shots at our own country, it could only improve the standard of living at this point. People would probably be scared off of drugs for fear it may explode. Food for thought right there, not the ramblings of a highly caffeinated man at two in the morning I assure you.
Speaking of caffeine, it needs to be made illegal. Not for any reason other than to try and prevent me from drinking it, at this point caffeine faces more of a threat to me than the state of British politics.