All the indicators, though – Mystic Meg, the East-African magic chicken, Paul the Octopus, Gypsy Rosie Lee, the bookmakers and even the polls – suggest that Boris is indeed going to be wiping his cock on the Number 10 curtains by Independence Day.
It’s a shame that Raab couldn’t make the cut, but when the cards are so heavily stacked against anything resembling empirical reality and rational thought, I can’t say I’m surprised.
But with him out of the race, what’s left is very poor pickings. I suppose, if it’s a choice between perfidious watermelon Gove and bucaneering philanderer Boris… well. You can dress it up how you like, and people will, but it is a choice between an artisan sourdough shit sandwich, and a farm-to-table, hand-reared dogs arse casserole.
I don’t believe that Boris will deliver what he says he will. I think whatever we have on October 31st – will be a fudge of monumental proportions, and it won’t involve immediately taking back all powers from the EU on that date, because the the levels of preparedness are no match for the enormity of the task. It will involve a prolonged extension and a transition period while the British peg is hammered into the Switzerland-shaped hole. It will almost certainly involve free movement of people. It will probably involve the ECJ and acceptance of EU governance of standards for goods and services. It could well give Eire the whip-hand over Northern Ireland and, as such it’ll probably give us a general election.
I have a £100 bet with a friend who thinks that we’ll be actually out on Oct 31st. I think my money is pretty safe.
I also think that he’s very-much globohomo-aligned on the major issues, and I think the insidious left will have no trouble perpetuating its social, cultural and political hegemony under his watch. When it comes to the culture war, I sincerely doubt comparisons between him and Trump will hold any water at all.
What I’m most interested to see is what happens in the next couple of weeks. Because it’s all been very plain sailing so far for Boris, hasn’t it? Which is odd for a man who has committed so many personal and professional indiscretions, and has such an uneasy and transactional relationship with the truth.
It seems likely to me that someone is keeping their powder dry. There’s an incipient outbreak of Boris Derangement Syndrome, on the left and the right, and as such there is a small but determined and resourceful group of people who would like to stop him at any cost. And if someone has a chance to derail him, then the time to do it would be in the next day or two, once he’s in the final 2 for the members ballot, and in the Sunday newspapers before members have had a chance to cast their votes.
Since the left aren’t above completely inventing new truths, they’d be at liberty to custom fabricate a scandal to influence the group who’ll be voting – provincial white people in late middle age and older. If they have any brains at all, nonsense talk about him being a misogynist, Islamophobe or a homophobe would be abandoned, since his constituency for this vote – and this is probably their best quality – couldn’t give a shit about any of those things. Some kind of explosive (but either overblown or totally false) #MeToo story and a somehow-related financial scandal seems probable.
But it seems very unlikely that anything would actually deflect or defeat him. So, the odds on his opponent in the final vote would have to be outstanding before I’d consider a wager against him.
So at least we are guaranteed some red-meat fun and games down at the colosseum, before we get back to the unpleasant reality of the matter.
UPDATE: It’s Boris against Jeremy Hunt. When I look at Hunt, I see nothing. I see the invisible man in an empty suit, wearing the Emperor’s new cloak. Hunt emerged from the same scarecrow factory as Blair and Cameron. Perhaps worst of all, can you imagine the years of unceasingly hilarious mis-speakings of his surname on BBC panel shows?