THE WORLD CUP & BREXIT: beautiful game meets national shame

metoday4Tory rebels have pushed Theresa May in the direction of a final Commons say on whatever Brexit “deal” emerges from the UK/EC negotiations, but Leavers deny this. 90 MPs rebelled against Jeremy Corbyn’s Brexit whips yesterday, but nobody seems to know in which direction they did so. The fight going on in the Cabinet, Parliament and London-Brussels debates has predictably turned into underwater rugby without the ball. By comparison, wall-to-wall World Cup football is going to be a blessed relief.


There cannot be many among you who have failed to notice that the World Cup begins in Russia this afternoon. The first match is Russia v Saudi Arabia, which promises – if you follow the views of Boris Johnson and Jeremy Corbyn – to be a fascinating tussle between essentially chemical and amputational strategies as applied to The Beautiful Game.

In the social media, many have been hoping we shall not see any Alt State false flag atrocities during the tournament. We can but hope; but if the CIA were to bomb FIFA, I would regard it as an attack by the irresponsibly ruthless upon the irredeemably corrupt. Surely some good would come out of it.

Either way, even if you hate footie, the offside rule and yellow/red card practices of  referees will come as a welcome relief to the increasingly impenetrable nature of Britain’s Parliamentary Brexit debates. Despite the complex obfuscation of a process that should really have consisted of a trigger for Article 50, a reckoning up of ongoing EU project expenditures and a leaving date, some of us are clinging to what clarities remain. One of these is that there is no substantive difference at all between what the political class is doing on Brexit, and what it did to cheated 1950s born SPA victims. In both cases, it is playing fast and free with the Constitution in order to have its own way.

This opportunism and spectral display of double standards is equally apparent on both sides of the Neverendum debate. For example, an investment firm co-owned by prominent Tory Brexiteer Jacob Rees-Mogg has launched a new investment vehicle in Dublin that warns of the potential risks of a hard Brexit. One wonders how Fleece-Mob reconciles that with his views on the matter.

On the other hand, we have Jesus Corbyn and his ongoing attempt to hide the fact that, as a lifetime Leaver of the EU, this offers no conflict at all with his current position on the fence, with one leg dangling on the Remain side of it, and the other tucked under his bum. That means, of course, the Judean miracle-worker hasn’t a leg left to stand on.

In the latter half his career, Mr Corbyn has voted with the Conservatives in the Commons 835 times. That’s once  a week for just over twenty years. It’s a unique form of principled radicalism, and to be applauded. But then, the one thing common to every facet of Brexit is the lack of principles among the principals.

Take our Guy from Belgium. The one certainty in everything Verhofstadt asserts is that he has an undeclared interest in it. He is a man capable of making Dorian Gray seem beyond reproach by comparison; a humbug, a liar, a depraved being in sore need of a dentist. But he is consistent, and therefore a man whose judgement can be predicted at all times, albeit not trusted.

The same is true of Anna Soubry, a woman who is more fishwife than lady. Those crossing swords with her in the Brexit Battle describe Anna as “unspeakably rude” and “as tactful as flying saliva”. More often than not, the clue to personality is to be found in an anagram of the subject’s name. It may interest you to know that an anagram of Anna Soubry is: “OY! U R BANANAS”. Another is “BRAY – ANNOY US!”. But I couldn’t possibly comment.

Others, however, defend her, arguing that “there is no way women are going to return to being the shrinking violets of the Victorian era”. Quite right too: it’s time the Wimmin got to work on renaming some of that soppy Victorian lady literature. This ought to mean that Little Women being rebranded Big Sisters, while Heathcliffe will at last get his comeuppance in the reconfigured Blithering Tights. Hit the misognynist male chauvinist ravisher with yer bib ‘n’ brace, dear….that’s the spirit.

The final proof of the World Cup/Brexit conspiracy is that the BBC’s political correspondent Nick Robinson has today been reporting from Russia. I tweeted with the hope that he might have defected, but another Twitterati answered me in the correct manner: ‘He’s a man apart is our Nick. He wants the event to fail. He wants there to be rampant racism and possibly fatal violence. He wants this to affect our team’s performance. He wants Russia to prove it is the bogey man the BBC promote it to be. Russia wouldn’t have him”.

I stand corrected.

The Strange case of Korea-sur-Brexit-am-Singapore