I woke up this morning to the reality of Friday 13th with the music from the shower scene of the 1960’s horror, Psycho, blaring my ears and the realisation that this British political nightmare is not going away.
I am someone who is happiest when writing fiction, but I would struggle to write a soap opera about the current shenanigans going on at Number 10. What was that Mark Twain said about truth being stranger than fiction
THAT’S (NOT) THE WAY TO DO IT!
(Political Puppet Farce)
The individuals in the current Cabinet, most likely, be the shortest-running Cabinet in history, is headed by the main protagonist and old Etonian, Boris Johnson. A Turkish immigrant who became Primeminister of the United Kingdom. Purportedly, Boris is a highly intelligent man, who gives the impression of a blundering buffoon, with his shirttails akimbo, wild hair and a nasty habit of stabbing members of his own party in the back.
Recently he was asked by one voter to ‘please leave my town,’ so his tenure in prime-ministerial office looks fragile and appears out of his depth, making things up as he goes along, as many things he says, appear untrue. Has he lied to the Queen too? If he has, in my work of fiction he would be hauled off to The Tower (of London).
But, is the blundering Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson, really in charge at Number 10 or is somebody else pulling the strings?
The hallowed walls of number 10 are currently being occupied by a contemptible bunch of pompous overgrown schoolboys who are playing with the future of the UK. Leaving the EU without a deal would be a disaster, resulting in food and fuel shortages, lack of medicine, civil unrest, delays at ports and airports. Nobody in their right minds voted for that.
FROM: PUPPET ON A STRING
© BILL MARTIN AND PHIL COULTER
I may win on the roundabout
Then I’ll lose on the swings
In or out, there is never a doubt
Just who’s pulling the strings
I’m all tied up in you
But where’s it leading me to?