Alice in Plunderland


England has very few friends left in Europe – and not that many in the British Isles come to that. The plan today in Brussels is clearly to scare the Westminster Parliament into voting for the Withdrawal Agreement.


I had the most extraordinary sensation of déja vu last night while listening to The Prime Minister deliver an address to her subjects. At first, I thought it might just be the fact that she didn’t say anything new; but then I remembered that her thinly disguised display of blamestorming had followed, almost to the letter, a prediction I made a month ago:


Said mire was duly dispatched by the lady from Wonderland in predictable directions. Alongside it, however, was repeated a narrative now so ridiculous, you’d need more than just a brass neck to stick with it: the hide of a rhino would also be vital.

Mrs May has both those advantages, and so she droned on about how really, she was the only politician in the country dedicated to delivering on the Referendum decision, but all these other nasties who don’t even go to church any more were clearly out to thwart her.

Only Theresa May would suggest, right now, that Theresa May is The People’s Champion -and hope to convince anyone beyond the loyalists who run her own constituency. But such is the nature of the Prime Minister: she has lost what uncertain grip she ever had on reality. This was confirmed when she told a Times hack that she felt “guided by God”. I always said that the Almighty Creator was a complete plonker.

Today however, Little Alice goes from Wonderland to Plunderland. They too left the 3-dimensional Universe behind several decades ago – and as with the unlamented Soviet Union, this is often displayed in their insistence that national plurality is sheer carelessness and deserves to be punished as Thought Crime. In ramming home this totalitarian view of life, they are also (lacking any real substance behind an unshakeable belief in pointless federalism) very adept at being mendaciously insulting.

The process started in 2016 when Cameron announced the UK referendum. As one would expect, the charge was led by the devious old tax-evader Jean-Claude Juncker, who said nobody in the EU cared if Britain stayed or left…and “nobody speaks English here any more – it is a dead language”. Having set the tone on winning friends and influencing people, he handed over to banking candidate Macron in France, who has let fly an uninterrupted stream of xenophobic hate towards Britain that has increased in intensity over time.

During 2017, Macron dismissed all leavers as “antediluvian fascists”. In September 2018, he said in Strasbourg that “Those who suggest Britain can easily live without Europe, that everything is going to be alright, are liars”. In November, he was back again, railing at “the idea that English (sic) fisherman think they can fish wherever they like”. Perfide Albion, eat your heart out.

Depeche2 (1) As anye fule know, things are going ever so well for Macronapoleon in France at the minute, and thus he has lots of time available to indulge his Anglophobia. Already set to introduce draconian laws against the Gilets Jaunes, he now finds that the trade unions are also taking to the streets…and his decidedly dodgey government colleagues blunder from one storm to the next. Meanwhile, the moving annual deficit between expenditure and income is still hovering around 35%. This is not going down well in Berlin.

The nastiest Brexit hater in Brussels is of course Guy Verhofstadt, a silly little man who has slagged off the Greeks, Italians, Hungarians and British in equal measure. So it came as no surprise at all when, within hours of the UK referendum result, Gappy was appointed Executive Liar on the Kill Brexit project. His first act was to post the word “Brexshit” on his twitter account. This represented the high point of Verhofstadt’s wit and répartee: it’s been downhill ever since.

Next up was failed Polish politician Donald Tusk, who said there would be “a special place in Hell for all those who voted Leave without a plan”. Don omitted to mention that Brussels doesn’t have one either, but this didn’t stop Irish Tiaoseach Leo Varadkar from patting Tusk on the back after this outburst, and giggling as he said the outburst would “set de cat amung de pigeons hahahahaha”.

The Irish government has not exactly covered itself in glory over the backstop, and the OpEd “expert” Fintan O’Toole at the Irish Times  has written a series of incredibly anti-British columns on Brexit of late, most notably this piece from two days ago. There is something about the Dublin government élite which always delights in British misfortune, and depicting us as dinosaurs. I’m glad it isn’t reflected in public opinion, which in turn is not quite as at ease with Varadkar as he always seems to be with himself: since he began basking in the sunlight of Brexit, his poll ratings have gone down….and down, and down. The latest lot (March 7th) are his lowest ever.

So it was that Irish EU vice-Chair Mairead McGuinness’s “we’d love you to stay” clip on Sky News this morning rang just a little hollow. People do seem to need reminding that this isn’t the first time Britain has stood alone against the prevailing piss and wind of thoroughly daft and authoritarian ideas. The last time we did, the Irish Government helped us by refuelling Nazi U-Boats. (I have many Irish friends who will find that an insulting observation. As always, I stress I am not talking about the average person on the Irish street: they are never less than friendly and terrific crack. I am talking about the élite Irish poseurs who remember everything and learn nothing).

But Ms McGuinness did do one thing rather well: she confirmed the Times/Slog story of last week that there won’t be any extension at all without further humiliation. And shortly afterwards, Donald Tusk “announced” (before the Council has even met, which was clever of him) that a short extension will be conditional on a favourable passage of the Withdrawal Agreement by the House of commons.

In short, plus ça change – it’s blackmail: “Unless you pass the WA that 91% of Britons don’t want, you get no extension”. Doubtless, a longer extension will also involve a Second Referendum. You read it here first etc etc etc.

Anyway, as Theresa the Hun is guided by the inhabitants of Valhalla, it should be pretty obvious to even we, the universally insulted Leavers, that there is nothing to fear. I await with baited breath the PM’s answer to The Tusk condition (assuming the other 26 accept it) because it really will be shit or bust next week in the Commons.

The reason I say this is that if Labour votes against her deal, they will be responsible for placing a No Deal WTO Brexit not just back on the table, but also renderin it the allegedly poisonous gruel we shall be forced to eat. For if there is no extension because WA3 fails, by definition we really must by Law leave with No Deal….because the extension is dependent upon Labour supporting something they don’t want. Do try to keep up here, this is really quite straightforward.

The rock-to-hard-place dilemma faced by Labour probably explains why Jeremy Corbyn  is also zooming over to Brussels today with what he calls “an alternative Brexit plan”

Perhaps one thing the Vicar’s daughter might do is change the March 29th date in UK Law anyway, such that even if her vote fails again (which is a 3-1 on bet at least) we shall still be EU members, but unrecognised as such by the EU. Thus she would deliver unto us a scrambled Curate’s egg.

What fun we shall have. Meanwhile, I bring you momentous news: not just Theresa May, but also Sky’s Fatty Bolt-On have arrived in Brussels. Thus the Crisis Cast is complete.

Stay tuned.