Pad Life 4: End of Days
By airyfairy
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Little Cat and I are looking out of the Pad’s sitting room window, and contemplating the end of days.
It must be, mustn’t it? There has to be a reason. No country in any mind at all, let alone its right one, would let Boris Johnson get within a sniff of being Prime Minister. There have to be dark forces at work.
Our present political leaders, of all shades, have made of me something that no-one has managed to make of me since I was about fifteen. They have made me into a monarchist.
I’ve got nothing against the royals as people. I don’t know them, they may be wonderful human beings or they may be complete shits, I have no idea. I imagine they’re a combination of both, like the rest of us. It doesn’t matter. In principle, it’s a bloody awful idea to have a hereditary head of state. It reinforces inequality in just about every aspect of life you can think of, it makes unearned privilege a glamorous, exciting thing rather than a blot on the landscape, and it boosts the circulation of publications that make you weep for the trees that died to print them. As for the argument that the tourist trade would suffer without it – oh for heaven’s sake. Who are all those people wandering around France, Italy, Germany, the United States, pointing their mobile phones at anything and struggling with the language?
But at least Boris Johnson will not be our actual head of state. Or Gove or Raab or Hunt or Javid or Stewart or any of the rest.
I wonder if Eddie Redmayne is looking at his diary and wondering when they’re going to make Westminster: Whoops Apocalypse. I mean, Redmayne’s got to play Rory Stewart. Stick a mop head on Brian Blessed and he can do Johnson.
‘An Absolute Monarchy,’ I inform Little Cat. ‘That’s what we need now. Yes, I know it will be Charles one day but I’m even prepared to put up with that. Let’s be brutal, it won’t be for long, and then we can have William and Kate and all be will sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. If the country is going to be the plaything of a posse of the posh, it might as well be played with by people who’ve been taught some manners.’
Johnson epitomises the confusion between education and intelligence. The man has undoubtedly had the best education money could buy, he can use long words, he can write books about Winston Churchill that get appalling reviews, and he can probably tell you the Latin for Garden Bridge, but he’s stupid. What is worse, he’s spoilt, greedy, unfeeling and stupid.
I’m a bitter and twisted old lady now, so I’ve seen a number of Prime Ministers. I’ve seen clever, loathsome and ruthless (Thatcher); clever, a bit dodgy but with generally good intentions (Wilson); clever but out of touch (Heath); quite clever but not really up to it (Major); clever, initially well-intentioned, but ultimately prepared to send people to be killed so he could dine at George Bush’s table (Blair); clever up to a point, oleaginous, a sodding disgrace who walked away from the biggest mess since the Second World War (Cameron); and Theresa May. But I’ve never seen a stupid Prime Minister. Jim Callaghan got just about everything wrong that could be got wrong, but he wasn’t stupid.
Honestly, put Trump and Johnson in a room together and listen to the rattle of single brain cells.
At least with an Absolute Monarchy there’s no pretence. ‘I’m Queen, I make the rules, you’re scum and you obey them.’ As it is we have to listen to the verbal vomit that spews forth from the hypocrites offering to be our leader: ‘I am going to crush you because it is the WILL OF THE PEOPLE.’ ‘I’m going to prorogue the democratically elected Parliament because it is the WILL OF THE PEOPLE.’ And the best one: ‘Not leaving the EU on 31 October will be a DEFEAT.’ A defeat of what? By whom? The will of the people (I’m not going into whether the referendum result was really the will of the people, let’s just accept the numbers for now) was to leave the EU. The referendum didn’t specify a date. The people didn’t rise up and say ‘Trick or Treat! Ensure we leave the EU on Halloween, enemies of the people, or we’ll tie your door handles together.’ We may be fighting Them on the beaches, but They, whoever They are, can’t actually be arsed to turn up. We are just fighting Ourselves.
Little Cat gives me a bemused look. She’s not used to being the recipient of the political rant. That used to be Cat’s job. Cat would listen patiently up to a point, then argue back, or possibly just start asking for her tea in order to shut the mad woman up. But poor old Little Cat has the gig now, because, sadly, Cat is no longer with us. The lymphoma finally overcame her, and we had to say goodbye.
Cat’s actual given name was Delilah. She came to us nine years ago, at six weeks old, a turbo-charged bundle of fur who showed no fear of anything. The kids and I couldn’t agree on a name at first. Then one evening, as we watched her conquer the sitting room curtains for the umpteenth time, pulling out threads and destabilising the whole caboodle, I turned to them despairingly and said, ‘Why did I let you persuade me to have this kitten? Why? Why? Why?’ And so Delilah she was.
Tears have been shed, kind words from friends have been had. We’ll miss her so much. None more so than Little Cat, who now has to listen dutifully while the keeper of the food sachets blithers on about the state of the nation, and waits for the end of days.
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Comments
Ah, indeed, my worst fears
Ah, indeed, my worst fears realised. I agree with your assessments of our PM's, but it would be intersting to review recent American Presidents. Bush was a cretin, but the moron's moron takes it to a level beyond the cretinous. Not starting a world war will be enough, if we can just see this through. I'm sorry to hear about Delhia. I wrote a blog years ago outlining exactly this sad state Trump in the whitehouse and Boris at number 10. Uncaring, unfeeling, morons of the worst kind. I want independence, now, for Scotland. We need to distance ourselves from such toxic examples of humanity.
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Ah...
the pleasures of ranting, even if no-one is (really) listening. I think these are publishable. Just a question of where. (As always). Thanks for cheering me up, despite the content.
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Perhaps you could team up
Perhaps you could team up with little cat and launch a blog Seriously though I hope you do send these off somewhere - they aren't particularly yorkshire centric are they? Stretch the net a bit wider Airy!
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I'm so sorry about Delilah,
I'm so sorry about Delilah, but I love how she came by her name. She was a few years older than Lucky, but still seems young.
I don't think Trump is stupid any more than a mass murderer is stupid, is just not confined to what we think of as the right way to behave ie make friends with people who will buy the weapons you make as this will help GDP. If it means starting another war in Gulf, well it's a risk but we'll sell more weapons. Oil will go up, we have shale. Etc. Johnson is different. His Dad seems very nice and loves him, so he can't be all bad. And he might well trigger a vote of no confidence almost at once so there will be an election anyway?
They had ian duncan smith on the other day, explaining why boris was best and how they'd sort out brexit in a jiffy. it all seemed so simple, was amazing no one had thought of it before. he spoke with enthusiasm, confidence, next day someone came on and apologetically pointed out none of that was true. would have been better if that could have been put on straight afterwards. Is like being lost in a bog, boris is a bright light and you think wow, that's the way out, go towards him and fall immediately into a bottomless pit
i really like how you combine outside life with the huge events in your life, and how even when writing of something very sad you can make me smile
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this is the fiddling while
this is the fiddling while rome burns though, isn't it? job of writers to make tunes out of it. You can't resist :0)
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Pick of the Day
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I hadn’t seen these before,
I hadn’t seen these before, so I'm glad this one was picked. I've just showered Mediterranean salt and sand out of my hair and decided I would avoid the BBC news feed and anything else that might connect me with that dreadful condition called reality and, yet, here I am. Proof that we can't avoid our fate. Thank you for such a spirited and poison-tipped proxy rant. In the end, I feel something like a cathartic state, though it might be the wine or the hierbas (why do they leave the bottle?). Cats, hey? I remember similar assaults on the curtains. Perhaps amphetamine-dosed kittens could be let loose in that vile specimen's hair? Perhaps one was, and the trim wasn't just some simplistic stunt to make him seem normal. Wilson: the man who said "No" to a US president and kept Britain out of a costly, destructive and barbaric war that another US president then glibly walked away from in the manner of an Etonian who's just plunged his country into the worst crisis since the last world war. How many 70-odd year olds are alive now who otherwise wouldn't have been? Enjoyable blog. I'll keep looking in once I've stopped grinding my teeth. Do you think Johnson is the kind of man to say "No" to a US president? Wonderful irony, hey? Johnson & Johnson.
Parson Thru
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We will get Boris, but Trump
We will get Boris, but Trump is on the way out.
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no I think Trump is wounded.
no I think Trump is wounded. Something coming sideways. He's on the way out. Little trump, boris, he'll come and go. quickly, I hope.
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Disturbing times they are,
Disturbing times they are, dear lady friend. Having a souless twat in the White House makes me want to punch a few walls, but after several years of me punching - then patching - walls. My wife said, "Enough! You're getting a punching bag in the basement!' Ha. And now I've just learned that David Cameron is a member of the club where I have been gainfully employed for the past 18 years. Rory Stewart, as well, is a member. I met him before his PM days when he was plugging his walking across Afghanastan book. I didn't like him much. Maybe it's time to retire. It's an us against them mentality over here and it's very unpleasant. Goddamn how I hate today's politics, social diseased media over here. Didn't mean to rant. Yours was better and far more interesting. And I am terribly sorry about dear cat. Have a wedding to go to in Ireland next June. Maybe we won't come back. Ha. I say this to my wife and she doesn't tell me I'm nuts. A telling sign. Much love to you, good woman.
Rich xx
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Ha. I don't think I ever talk
Ha. I don't think I ever talk about where I work, much less write about it. Maybe I should. You're right about to many cooks. I know I'm only dreaming here, but I'd always thought that under the circumstances - Fake president in the White House - they'd get together behind closed doors and come up with our best hope. But, no. It'll be business as usual. Big sigh here. All is well here. Been writing again. So energy level up big time. Love it when your name pops up. Hope you and that lovely family of yours are well and enjoying the summer. Just had central air conditioning installed in the house. Nice and cool here. Love you lots dear lady and look forward to the day we meet again. So I can see you and Darcey down a couple of bottles of wine. She'd love that. Till the day we get to York then. xx
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