Home » Europe; EU referendum » EU referendum: the Project for the New British 19th Century

EU referendum: the Project for the New British 19th Century

(Warning: very strong language, complete despair)

I completely effing despair.

There is no ‘Remain’ campaign arguing for Britain to keep hold of its power in Europe. No-one is speaking out for commonsense, decency and history.

Except me, and only one person to date has read my enlightened Post of yesterday, on the referendum. They probably didn’t get very far down. I just don’t know what I can do, I feel like John the Baptist crying in the wilderness; a small voice, with only an obscure little platform: The Boglington Post (Circulation: 1 ½) to amplify it.

Despite having right overwhelmingly on its side, the ‘Remain’ campaign is proving a grotesque and utter, pathetic failure. What there is of it has been suckered into a sterile economic debate,  in which it is only necessary for the cynical Leave campaign to shout ‘bollocks!’ loudly enough to be believed by a public that has been brainwashed for the past 40 years by a relentless barrage of anti-European propaganda in the gutter press.

Who is in charge? You have three weeks to get your woeful act together, Sir Stuart Rose, you useless retail wanker.

For a start, hire a fucking PR agency. One with a pair of balls.

One that will tell the British people loudly and clearly, they are being taken for a ride in a direction we really shouldn’t be wanting to go.

One that will challenge the outrageous bias of the BBC’s news coverage, for instance.

This evening, for instance, the eight o’clock bulletin. A huge, shiny bus pulls up somewhere in darkest Britain. Adoring crowds applaud the emergence of the shambolic albino bear-man Boris Johnson and his cute bit of Europhobic fluff, Priti Patel. Johnson is heard, fluently orating for a while in the language of Brexit, in which he has fervently believed since it occurred to him over Christmas lunch that he could be waffling disarmingly at the Queen as soon as the Tory party conference has ended in September, deposing his hated Bullingdon Club rival in Number 10.

He pushes all the right, grimy buttons: ‘Big Brother says Hate All Foreigners!’.

The crowd cheers on his latest wheeze to control migrants with an Australian-style points system – you know, the one that lets in more foreigners per head of population than Britain’s ‘uncontrolled borders’, while stranding genuine refugees on barren islands where they can either starve or swim home through shark-infested seas. The crowd cheers on his defiant assertion that he will defeat Hitler, and Napoleon too… no, sorry, that was last week’s speech, the one about fighting foreigners on the beaches.

(Come to think of it, have you noticed? Instead of his customary baggy suit and shirtsleeves, Boris has started dressing in a grey canvas artist’s jacket, putting on weight and stumping around grumpily, just like Churchill. The difference is, Boris isn’t Churchill. He’s not really the guy to take on Putin.)

Restore British sovereignty. Plant a flag on the Moon. Treat everyone to a kebab. Whatever they want to hear.

The BBC’s ‘Chief Political Correspondent’, Laura Kuenssberg steps forward shyly from the adoring, flag-waving crowd, asks a feeble question, easily brushed aside with Boris’ usual diffident charm. And the bandwaggon rolls on.

Then, for a few seconds of balance we cut to the Remain campaign; an embarrassed looking line of half a dozen unattractive, badly dressed dwarves fidgeting uncomfortably on a podium in front of a banner that says something or other. No explanation as to who they are. Dowdy and uninspiring TUC chair, Frances O’Grady makes some unmemorable point, feebly protesting that immigrants are, er, quite a good thing.

And immediately we cut back to the much more interesting view of the huge, sexy glamour bus, the camera dwelling on the enormous lie painted on the side: ‘£50 million a day goes to the EU. We could be spending it on the NHS!’ (yes, but we won’t, will we?) as it roars off to the next hustings.

If I had any money at all, I would sue the pathetic little runt who runs the increasingly shambolic and irrelevant BBC News, James Brexit Harding. I’d have his fucking job. This craven capitulation to the Leave campaign and the endless torment of their focus on Farage, who isn’t even an official part of the Leave conspiracy, as he’s too ghastly even for them, yet who gets more coverage than anyone since Hitler, is outrageous and certainly in breach of the BBC Charter.

There used to be a unit based in Glasgow University, that monitored bias on the BBC. If you’re still there, McTavish, let’s have the breakdown: how many dozens of hours of airtime have yarpy Farage and the other Brexit bastards commandeered, Duncan Cunt and the certifiable homophobe, Peter Bone (read his Wikipedia entry if you want to know what kind of madman wants to rule Britain); Grayling and Gove, swivel-eyed Redwood, ‘Dr’ Fox – would you let him operate on your sister? – the ones with weirdly shaped heads;  how many bulletins have led on sweeping Brexit statements, or on their shouts of ‘Off with his head!’ as the Governor of the Bank of England or some other actual authority tries to be heard, as against how many seconds’ worth of coverage have gone to the other side, whoever they are?

Or is it just that the BBC can’t find anyone at all to speak in favour of remaining in Europe, other than Blair; who, let’s face it?

Please understand, before you vote:

The referendum has nothing whatever to do with Europe!!!

Europe is merely a bag of issues that can be pulled out and manipulated at will, to push the grimy anti-immigration and C19th Empire loyalist buttons of a large swathe of the British public who don’t understand what is happening to them in a world of change; who fear losing an identity they probably didn’t know they had.

You have a better one, dimwits! You are about to chuck it away!

Calling the referendum was a trap into which Cameron fell so easily, because he is a shining Old Etonian booby who cannot ever bring himself to believe the worst of people, an essential quality in a British Prime Minister. It will be his undoing.

The referendum is entirely about which faction of the Tory party will rule Britain for the next fourteen years, the fuzzy, U-turning centrist alliance of Cameron and Osborne or the hard-edged, gimlet-eyed Thatcherite free-market capitalist faction of Gove and Grayling, taking as its inspiration the now-notorious Project for the New American Century; the hubris that led us into Iraq.

Why can’t anyone see it?

This is a power-grab by the Right. A slow build-up coup d’état, if you like. And now they are within sight of the finish. The same people who brought you the bedroom tax, the pension contributions tax, the Universal Benefit fiasco and forcing the dead back to work. But the powerful memes they are dangerously playing with are sufficient to drag even some Labour politicians along with it, more fool they. (The Labour party is deeply divided between Blairite anti-Corbynists, Anti-Blairite anti-Corbynists and pro-Corbynist anti-Blairites. Now read on…)

As far as the Leave campaign goes, they don’t really care whether you vote in or out, as long as the margin is close enough to call for Cameron’s head in a basket. Neoliberal, monetarist, Atlanticist – they plan to deliver Britain’s economy to monolithic, tax-dodging global US corporations and the arms industry. They care only about restoring Thatcherism to its rightful place at the heart of UK politics.

The danger is, people will believe them. And out we shall go, into — what? No-one knows. Except that it’s going to be very, very expensive, and deeply painful. And very damaging, not just for us but for other European countries. Especially the little ones, that get so much benefit from being members.

And yes, we’ll get our meaningless ‘sovereignty’ back, but we’ll give our power away instead; and we’ll never hear the last of the triumphal donkey noises from Satchelmouth Farage. We’ll hand it over to Thatcherite cunts (Conservative and Unionist National Treasures) , Gove and Grayling, they’ll hand it over to Rupert Murdoch and the Fortune 500 – a boot stamping on a human face forever, as dear old George Orwell (another Old Etonian, but less of a booby) put it, and that will be that.

Second-class citizens in Europe (but first-class prats in Basildon. Hurrah!) And the ghost of Maggie will once more stalk the land.

Bring back Spitting Image, is all I can say.

 

This Colourful World of Spam: A regular new feature, inspired by Donald Trump:

In response to this Post, I have received a Comment for my Approval, offering me information about having sex with animals.

Some mistake, surely? Anyway, I shan’t encourage you by giving out the sender’s IP address in Marbella. Sorry.

At least someone’s read it.

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