Like a cat watching a washing machine turn around and around, its been hard to keep your eyes off the Tory Party Conference over this last week. Not so much watching but listening to podcasts and the radio as they let free the agents of chaos into my car and headphones, driving to or from work and walking the dog. The woman who crashed our economy putting thousands onto peoples mortgages and losing billions off the value of the pound, holding court in fringe events spouting her sweet shop politics, wouldn’t this be great if nothing else mattered? The homer secretary warning us about a hurricane of illegal migrants taking our houses and jobs and cars and whatever else prompting “Britain First” to print and distribute leaflets telling us to “Kick ’em all out and send ’em all back” Whilst another cabinet minister tells us multiculturalism is going really well another is telling us repeatedly to “stand up and fight” again and again, pointing and gesticulating like Boudicca; theres a war on lads don’t you know. The transport minister tells us he’s going to fix our potholes, and improve bus lines whilst any chat about the train line which shall not be named is noticeably absent. Some minister was telling us they will not implement a meat tax and the transport minister again reminded us that local authorites may well be telling us when and where we can go shopping. It’s fucking mental, this isn’t Trump’s America or rather the America that Trump happened to be in charge of whilst presiding on the collapse of normality. This is whats happening over here, I really can’t believe what is going on. Who are these supposed enemies that i’m meant to be terrified of? What sort of dirty bastard playground politic tactics are these that we see before us?

Yesterday our Prime Minister, the actual person in charge, the man who wasn’t even voted in by as many people as there are in a pack of Breakfast Shreddies and with considerably less intelligence. The rumours were for about 2 weeks prior to this freak show that the train line HS2, the high speed rail network connecting the North and South of Britain and then apparently to connect West to East; this monster project agreed by all parties and started about a decade ago, costing billions of pounds. Which would connect the country, lessening the N/S divide and bringing in as much economic activity every year from the North prospering as it would cost to complete the project, well our gloriously patronising leader has cancelled it and occurring at the end of the conference gave the impression of the whole party being ripped apart on the event horizon of the black hole of Westminster.

Is it truly feasible that this might all be a particularly awful dream which sees other politicians coming and shitting, pissing and vomiting into my bed; the Holy trinity, a dream which it seems pretty impossible to wake up from, a series of false wakes, like climbing up a mountain, rounding a peak to find only another round the corner. Its utterly bonkers being in Britain right now, my Mum, now with hearing aid is fully engaged in the conference season from her arm chair dripping in bile from the daily mail which drops through her door every day telling her what to think. This is happening to millions of old people all over the country, they must be liberated from such bondage and paranoia. 

Its time all this devilry stops and we are allowed avoid descending into the nine circles of hell, please save us all who ever is listening wake us up for god’s sake. I thought I just dreamt the Jacob Rees Mogg just told me that Hormone injected beef from Australia is fine to import and eat; it hasn’t done him any harm, I wish it fucking would , or at least we should tar and feather the lot of them.