Since this is extremely enlightening — and hilarious — I wanted to share it with those of you who aren’t around for the early-morning thread. Thanks, Tony!
Over here on the shores of Fiddle-Earth it certainly looks like a critical mass of the financial interests that own the Tory Party have come to the conclusion that, with The Great British Brexit an established boot on the throat of the UK’s workers and the NHS doing sterling work pulling the Government’s exposed knackerjacks out of the Covid fire, they’ve probably squeezed all of the electoral mileage they can out of Flobalob Johnson’s ‘Roly-Poly Rascal with Rumpy-Pumpy Ways’ act and have therefore authorised the drawing and inserting of multiple knives into his wine-soaked carapace.
Leakers have started trashing him to their chums in the corporate media, which is par for the course where Tories and their internal feuds are concerned, but those chums have actually stared filing articles on the trashing rather than keeping it all on the down-low as ‘background’ for their inevitable tell-all books, which is wildly out of character for our doormat Press where their good friend ‘Boris’ is concerned and proof positive that his days of sloth and gluttony are definitely numbered. Word must have gone out from the paramount thrones of media power that the dense protective cordon erected around the Bullingdon Bully long before he won the Tory Party leadership is no longer in effect, leaving political editors across the Infotainment industry aquiver with anticipation over yet another Tory Party coronation.
As to the actual allegations themselves (always secondary in importance to the narrative they’re used to support) it’s being reported as multi-sourced and credibly witnessed that Johnson was overheard around the time of the 2nd National Lockdown angrily refusing to consider the possibility of ordering a 3rd Lockdown, regardless of the scientific advice, saying that he would rather “see bodies pile high in their thousands”. He’s denying it, of course, but he’s also denying –
– That there’s anything vaguely sleazy (that’s the word of the moment, ‘sleaze’, so redolent of mid-90s Tory vileness while steering public feeling away from the much more accurate but unsettling ‘criminal corruption’) about his secret text conversations with James ‘I love Brexit Britain so much that I moved my entire vacuum-cleaner production line to the Far East so I can still profit from trade deals with the evil EU’ Dyson about cutting the beardie billionaire some juicy tax incentives as part of the contracts he was gifted to produce ventilators (which his company didn’t, couldn’t and, eventually, still didn’t, because vacuum cleaners and medical ventilators are, like, totally different things) while ignoring repeated offers from actual ventilator producing companies that weren’t owned by Tory donors or friends of Cabinet members. Totally normal, nothing to see here, as evidenced by the current line of chaff being deployed by today’s interchangeable Tory talking-head arguing that Johnson’s detractors have a problem with the medium (texting = new-fangled and trendy comms platform that those fuddy-duddy losers just don’t get, bro) and not the message (Bozo never met a billionaire he wouldn’t bare buttocks for).
– That far from being surprised, outraged and intractably opposed to the very idea of a breakaway Super League as he told absolutely everyone last week, Johnson actually had a meeting in Downing Street with Ed ‘Shrunken Head’ Woodward, the (now former) Chief Executive of Manchester United Football Club PLC just a couple of days before the SL was announced. What could they possibly have had to talk about? Not the dramatic example of unrestricted greed and corporate arseholishness that would so dominate the headlines a couple of days later, that’s for sure. Why, the very thought is an outrageous insult to the character and credibility of…. uh…. ah… ummmmm….. let’s move on.
– That anyone but our poor, wee poverty-stricken church-mouse of a Prime Minister paid for the recent refurbishment of the living areas above 11 Downing Street into a cross between a Turkish brothel and the reduced section in IKEA. Certainly not rich Party donors, despite it being reported that donations for such were actually solicited. That would arguably be bribery, after all. No, no, Johnson paid for it all himself. What’s that? He paid for it ‘himself’ via a loan from Tory Central Office? That’s that answered then, isn’t it? I mean, there’s no suggestion that Tory Central Office was just the middleman for a corrupt donation from a rich Party donor, is there? Of course not. Just listen to the parade of minor Cabinet drones happy to tell the BBC and assorted other News outlets that they have no idea where Johnson got the money from but they’re sure he was telling the truth when he said whatever he said….. crystal clear now, yes?
It’s almost delicious that the source of the “pile up the bodies” quote might be Dominic Cummings, the Megamind-lookalike and semi-professional sociopath who Benedict Cumberbatch’s portrayal made look like slightly less of a highly-effective Russian intelligence asset responsible for masterminding the pro-Brexit social media campaign of 2016 and more like a head-in-the-clouds blameless boffin. Cummings was Johnson’s handler/dragon up until he was somehow forced out due to a conflict with Johnson’s latest mistress (sorry, what’s the proper Media gloss? ‘Loving partner’? ‘Influential girlfriend’? Something like that). It was always a known-known that Cummings remained close to Johnson’s ex-chum and current (totally invisible) Northern Ireland Secretary, Michael ‘Sockpuppet’ Gove, and through Gove to his ultimate master Rupert Murdoch, so Cummings slipping the scalpel into Johnson’s hide isn’t exactly a dramatic twist.
What makes it funny in a blackly comic way is that most of the Hoi Polloi will know Cummings best for his overt breaking of the first Lockdown this time last year and the humiliating way every single member of Johnson’s Cabinet rejected observable reality in order to protect Obvious Putinist Asset from facing any consequences. Now the same Cabinet lackies are trying to suggest that no one sensible believes a word that crazy rotter Cummings says, and it’s not working. When the BBC’s Chief Political Propagandist Laura Kuenssberg (think a blonde Maggie Haberman with a career-defining fetish for naughty public schoolboys in blue rosettes) has abandoned her in-your-face crush on Johnson to act as Cummings’ pukefunnel, it doesn’t take a political genius to read the tea leaves.
All that said, the Tories are obviously hoping that they can offload Johnson with all the responsibility for everything stuffed into the pockets of his ill-fitting suit jacket. Brexit, corruption, cronyism, 150,000 plus dead of Covid, everything. Not us, Guvnor, it was the fat TV celebrity wot done it, Vote Conservative for a Fresh Start. I’m sure the British Media will bend over like the spineless salarymen they are to help them do it, and it’s hard to see Labour’s incompetent throwbacks mustering any kind of compelling anti-Tory narrative out of it since their entire ‘policy platform’ consists of Hippy Punching and doing whatever they think the pro-Tory Press will find least objectionable, and doing even that incredibly badly, but you have to take your pleasures where you can in the Franchised Oblast of Brexitannia Minor, and seeing the expression on Flobalob’s face when it finally sinks in that he’s not going to be able to smirk his way out of it this time will be…. nice.
Maybe. We’ll see what happens. I’m hoping for retaliatory blow-back all the way down the pipe. Chew each other to pieces you dinner-party fascist fucktards, I’ll be in the garden with a beer.