Bend over for Brexit

Bend over Britain

I fought back the bile and watched Donald Trump talking about torture. He told the interviewer he’d spoken with senior intelligence officers in the previous 24 hours and claimed they told him torture works. A million faery folk perished that second. He was lying. He was lying when he said as many people went to his inauguration as attended Barrack Obama’s, he was lying when he said Mexico would pay for the wall, he was lying… Well you get my drift.

The thing about Donald Trump is not just that he’s a liar, it’s that he’s a glib liar. He is a man who will tell a lie just as easily as you or I might tell the truth. And it doesn’t matter to him that he lies, because he’s also senile and ignorant, he pushes on with his agenda as if he had told the truth. This, my friends, makes Donald Trump two things: the most dangerous man in the world, and a scumbag.

I can live with the most dangerous man in the world no sweat. I mean if it wasn’t cheeto skin then it’d be Putin, and if it wasn’t bad Vlad it would be fat boy in North Korea. Deranged dictators with their grasping fingers on the nuclear button are a sad fact of life. However, if your nation bends over and spreads its butt cheeks to a scumbag, what does that make you?

I blame the dirty, shameful feeling of being a scumbag’s toy on the people who voted for Brexit. I said at the time I would never forgive them and the reasons for this are starting to emerge. Theresa May and her government are now prostituting themselves to every vile regime and ruler they think might save Britain’s economy, because post-Brexit Britain is economically f**ked. Nobody knows what comes next, knuckle-grazing Brexiters couldn’t work anything out that far in advance. They keep whingeing on about how they’re being thwarted, artfully ignoring the fact that having won the vote they are supposed to lead with a plan. It’s as if they’re preparing to argue that the consequences aren’t their fault because they were opposed, as if opposition is a dirty, undemocratic thing, and winning a vote to leave the EU is permission to do anything they want. Hooray we won! Bring back hanging and flogging!

So now, as a direct result of Brexit, Theresa went running over to forge a ‘Special Relationship’ with a nasty, racist, misogynistic, ignorant, dictatorial scumbag. When he implements Hitler-like policies she is too scared to denounce him and has to be forced into mealy-mouthed statements, so weak that even Brits start marching on Downing Street. What a laugh. The Prime Minister is an apologist for a racist, and I think she’s a coward. It would be apt if The Don, on his state visit, snubs Charles, or ‘grabs’ the queen, or does whatever else only he can, to show the people of two nations just how low they’ve sunk.

What was so wrong with the relationship with the Germans (doing more for Syrian refugees than Britain ever did), the Dutch (the most liberal, open, and lovely people), the French (gave us 60% of the English language, put up with the pain of the Calais jungle for years on behalf of the UK), the Spanish (owners of the nations favourite holiday destination), and all the other Europeans? Are these not the people we are ideologically closest to? Why are the UK’s relationships now so awful that we pretend the people with whom we share values are a bunch of right wing American rednecks, and celebrate a tuppence ha’penny arms deal with Erdogan, a man who crushes dissent as brutally as any dictator and marches journalists out of their offices at gunpoint. The reason, if you don’t know, is Brexit. As a result of Brexit there is now no regime too evil for Britain to do business with, no hem its leaders won’t kiss, no horror it can’t ignore, no crime it won’t allow to pass unremarked and unpunished.

I hope those who voted for Brexit will turn out when Trump arrives, line the red carpet, turn their backs to him, bend over, and spread those cheeks wide. A tip from Melania: he likes it when you say ‘you are, Don’ when he demands to know ‘who’s your daddy now?’

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