Brexit Agonistes – American Greatness
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At risk of sounding like a tiresome Twitter progressive whose made-up child readily espouses the grandest of witticisms, I offer this: My nephew, all of 8 years old, has joined the ranks of contrarians, skeptics, ruffians, and rogues.
Or, perhaps, he just doesn’t buy whatever Greta Thunberg and her shameless handlers are peddling.
Upon seeing the climate activist perma-frosted upon the TV, my nephew, a budding indignation threatening his top lip, said: “She is just trying to boss everyone else around.”
It comes to something, dear reader, when an 8-year-old whose usual philosophical enquiries ponder why giraffes have long necks, sees through the gauzy spectacle of emotional manipulation issuing from the likes of Greta.
Because those who handle her are desperate. The Left, reeling from Brexit, and from Trump, from a realignment they are yet to acknowledge, see what they’d like to see—much like The Secret fooled them.
This willful rejection of reality doubtless will form case studies in psychology textbooks of the future; how the masses deprived themselves of lucid sight during a moment in history as significant as the 1960s.
One study doubtless will ink hundreds of pages on this week’s decision by the British Supreme Court to banjax Prime Minister Boris Johnson’s decision to suspend Parliament.
Judges, whom we can safely deduce voted Remain, don’t like Brexit, and regard its voters as Untermensch fit only to fleck their flat-white, said it was wrong.
Yes, it is wrong to stop lawmakers “carrying out their duties” as the Brexit deadline—October 31—looms.
Those duties, luridly demonstrated, involve scuppering the prime minister’s no-deal card, ensuring he leaves the table with nothing, least not the deal and exit they feign desirous.
The court’s decision means lawmakers, three-quarters of which voted Remain, can get back to the deliciously democratic work of blocking Brexit—in all and any form.
They might ape the statesmen of past. Anyone can Google a quote and pretend to have read the book.
Yet, their strategy is clear. Make Boris break his promise to leave the European Union by October 31. Force another delay to a Brexit they’ll never permit.
Then, they can allow an election—one they on Wednesday rejected for a third time—and hope to win a Remain majority and kill off Brexit for good. I’m stirred to think their calls for a second referendum would, of course, then cease.
An election before then would confirm all they fear. A fearsome Brexit majority—or, the “wrong” answer to a question they wish wasn’t asked.
In a booming speech, attorney-general Geoffrey Cox laid into the zombie lawmakers, what he termed a “dead parliament,” and one with “no moral right to sit.”
“They could vote no confidence at any time, but they’re too cowardly to have a go. They could agree to a motion to allow this house to dissolve, but they’re too cowardly to give it a go. This parliament should have the courage to face the electorate but it won’t.”
Perhaps they are motivated by a noble intent to stop what they think is a grave mistake decades-long in its subsequent regret.
Like the judges, lawmakers in this country believe that the plebs made a mistake. That their mulish refusal of democracy history will one day judge a calming sedative imposed upon a rabid population bent on its own penury.
Which is not dissimilar to Democratic fantasies of impeaching President Trump. Remainers here, and Democrats there, are both tired of the wrong people providing the wrong answers to questions they only are bright enough to decipher.
Or perhaps both regard the views of the daily-breaders as just that: plain, white, simple, and soon to decay. They’re ushering us into their bruschetta “modern world,” as they so humbly assure.
Which is why they’d rather not hand us the option of exercising our own stupidity. They fear, rightly, the grotesque imagery they’ve invoked. Here, it is that of rich Remainers pestling what the proles were promised.
Ask the work-booted man in the pub, fourth pint down, what he thinks about all this. Ask the barmaid (yes, usually female) of her views. They say the same thing: get on with it.
They see judges, big business, lawmakers, the civil service, the BBC, academia, and celebrities all conniving and striving to snuff out their quite reasonable, and certainly mainstream, wishes.
And that is not just anecdotal. A recent poll found most in this country wants to get out of the European Union—including one-third of Remain voters.
All the while, these egregious people urinate, and tell us holding the umbrella: It’s raining.
For all their sneering, their contemptuous disregard for anything not tailored to their every fleeting whim, reality refuses to filter.
Most people in this country now see with lucidity that the opinions of their supposed betters are not valid. That those who rule above do hold them in contempt, for all their progressive pieties, and self-help swill.
We, naively, believed this country was serious—democratic, even.
How wrong we were.
But it so happens the “dictator” is quite popular. Boris Johnson’s crusade against the Remainer coup lofts his poll ratings with each sortie.
Though lost on the London set, the majority quite appreciate Boris’s efforts to carry out their will, do or die. And Trump’s approval ratings travel north with each public brawl in defense of the dejected.
It’s not complicated, is it?
But, as Geoffrey Cox said in that booming speech, sooner or later, even these turkeys won’t be able to prevent Christmas.