Friday 6 November 2015

Briefing Room...

It’s been a busy old week and forgive me, Twitter, for I have sinned. It has been three days since my last blog. For my penance I made a concerted effort to try and discover what has been going on in the world while I have been busy earning a crust and my, have you been busy; I hardly know where to start. Maybe I should begin with a roundup of what I’ve learned so far...

The Million Mask March of a few hundred infantile malcontents has been chucking fireworks and traffic cones around like the big, stupid, spoiled brats they are. More aeroplanes have been falling out of the sky over sandy countries. Various western countries have been raising alarums over border controls and the plagues of cockroach-like humanity that floods through their colander-like, fading, dotted lines on the Euro map. Junior doctors are considering going on strike, they are probably selling Channel 4, Piers Morgan is still an egregious tosspot and David Cameron is... well, I couldn’t really be arsed to find out.

But it did remind me of his personal crusade to make obsequious genuflexion at the feet of the goddess Merkel appear to the outside as if he is making a genuine attempt to negotiate a new deal for Britain, even as he crosses the fingers of both hands. It is so plain that, whatever he says, his endless pontificating on the likelihood of getting a favourable settlement is mere chaff in the wind. It looks impressive for a moment, but disperses into so much nothing in moments. But oh, the war of words!

Is he being paid, like the lawyers of old, by the word? At a recent cabinet meeting, in which he decided to tackle the Eurosceptics in his ranks he recently made a speech of such overstuffed pomposity, extolling the virtues of life within the EU embrace which ran for over two hours. From the start of the session all the way up to elevenses he riffed without notes – Ed Miliband would have been proud – about how Britain was bigger in Europe, could punch above its weight, could work with friends and close allies to build a better world and yes, he said, could better assist the humanitarian crisis which it was Britain’s duty to ameliorate.

Nearing the end, however, he was rattled when Iain Duncan Smith stood up, turned on his heel and walked out of the briefing room to the utter amazement of most of the assembled throng. Cameron spluttered a little but picked up where he’d left off and continued berating his bastard colleagues for daring to entertain the possibility of Brexit.

Keeping the cabinet on-message...

Afterwards, DC went in search of IDS for an explanation. Finding he had left the building he instead confronted his PA at the Department of Work & Pensions. “I have to say,” he said “ I found it a little disconcerting, to say the least, when it happened.” The aide cleared her throat and replied, “Oh, don’t take it personally, Prime Minister, it wasn’t a reflection on you... Iain has been walking in his sleep since he was a boy.”

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