“Look at the shiny-shiny…”
There’s a bit in Frankie Boyle’s 2008 stand-up show where he bemoans the inane nature of light entertainment telly. “It’s so patronising, isn’t it? Things like fucking Gladiator aren’t even programmes, they’re just a distraction. A distraction from war, a distraction from the economy,” he argues. “They should just have a guy come out with a bunch of keys and go: “Gladiators has been cancelled today – LOOK AT THE SHINY-SHINY!””
The big fuck-off elephant in any room these days is Brexit, and very legitimate concerns about how it will impact on all of our lives. Even those who previously propagated baseless lies about a post-Brexit utopia are now admitting that the ramifications will be immediately detrimental. The argument is no longer whether things will get worse or not, but how much worse and for how fucking long. Perhaps only a generation or three if we’re lucky.
Whereas the most logical solution would be to seriously reassess whether leaving the EU would be in our best interests as a nation, and perhaps even allow the public a chance to decide once they know exactly what an exit deal would entail, we are instead led to distraction like stupid fucking idiots. Karl Marx’s dictum, “Religion is the opium of the people” has been updated to: “Let’s get the plebs hooked on Brexit spice.”
We’ve had Boris Johnson propose a spectacular(ly idiotic) 25-mile bridge to very literally connect Northern Ireland to mainland Britain, at a cost to the taxpayer – who at this point would be struggling with depleted stocks of food and medical supplies – of a whopping £15 billion. But that’s fine, because the mammoth engineering feat would be “the kind of ambitious project we need to make a success of global Britain.” What?
Then there’s Theresa May waving a metaphorical bunch of freshly polished keys in our impoverished faces with plans for a ‘Festival of Brexit Britain’. The best thing about it is that it would only cost a bargain £120 million. Say what you like about Johnson (‘repulsive straw-headed Eton mess’ is a personal favourite), but at least we’d have a tangible white elephant (another favourite) to show for his braindead proposal.
May wants something to celebrate the fact that we are an “outward facing trading nation” – which is something that remaining in the EU would do pretty fucking well – whilst promoting what makes modern Britain so unique. So racistly shooting ourselves in the foot then. It’s not even her fucking idea, seeing as Jacob Rees-Twat first suggested it in January. “We should drink lots of champagne,” he said, twattishly.
And now, we should all rightfully gasp in grateful unison at the news that the Chancellor of Ex-Austerity Philip Hammond proposes a new fifty pence piece to celebrate the nose-cutting face-spitery of leaving the EU. It will be seven-sided to reflect every face of your average Tory lizard, and have inscribed upon it some vacuous statement of international friendship like: “It wasn’t you, it was us. Please send inhalers.”
In short, it is yet another example of your rich-and-getting-richer ruling classes using any combination of smoke and mirrors to divert attention from the wilful arse-fuckery they’re making of our futures. They’ve tried veiled racism, blatant xenophobia, bloody immigrant hysteria, and the faceless bogeyman of EU bureaucracy. Now comes the shit party, bridge to nowhere, and worthless fucking tokens. Let them eat stale cake and choke.
Still, aren’t those keys shiny?!
