Kakistocracy XXI:I Don't Fancy It Just Yet.

"I don't fancy it just yet" -  Allegra Stratton, COP26 spokesperson on being asked if she intended to upgrade her diesel car to a more carbon friendly electric model.

Hmmm. There's lots of things I don't fancy that I have to do (and there are a lot of things I fancy doing that I am unable to) but you'd think if you were the UK spokesperson for the United Nations Climate Change conference (to be held in Glasgow in November) that maybe at least making some token measure towards improving your own personal carbon footprint would be the least of expectations.

But this is a government that asks us to do as they say, not as they do. Witness Alok Sharma, the President of COP26 and the Minister of State at the Cabinet Office, flying thousands of miles to over thirty countries, six of them Covid 'red zone' countries - Bangladesh, Bolivia, Brazil, Qatar, Turkey, UAE, in an era when the whole world knows just how easy it is to carry our work out over Zoom or MS Teams.

At least one person who has kept his carbon footprint down is Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab who left it late to fly back from his holiday in Crete when Kabul, as predicted almost everywhere except by his own 'intelligence', fell, disastrously for the world, to the Taliban. Since returning he has squirmed, equivocated, sweated, scratched his head, and made lame excuses for his woeful behaviour during this humanitarian crisis and, in doing so, proved he is a worthy member of the government of Boris Johnson.

Raab, who famously didn't understand the importance of the Dover to Calais border regarding trade between the EU and the UK - something he'll presumably gather next time he goes for a non-existent pint in Wetherspoons, a non-existent chicken dinner in Nandos, or a non-existent milkshake in McDonalds (all places he's bound to frequent regularly, eh!?), seems to be, along with Joe Biden - whose honeymoon period is truly over, one of the few in the world who couldn't see this coming.

He did, as many remarked, have a nice tan though. Since I last wrote one of these Kakistocracy blogs (my attempt to hold this egregious administration up to at least some scrutiny) the fall of Kabul and the worsening situation in Afghanistan has, rightly, dominated the news and the government haven't come out of it well. But, nor have our previous governments, Conservative or Labour, or other Western governments, be they Trump's Republicans or Biden's Democrats.

For that reason I'm not going too hard on them. It'd be a hopeless situation even if we didn't have a hopeless government. But that doesn't mean we should simply accept our hopeless government, its lies, and its culture wars. Anything but. When Labour's Shadow Secretary of State for Women and Equalities Dawn Butler called Boris Johnson a liar, something he demonstrably is, in the House she was thrown out.

The liar himself escaped punishment. There could, in my mind, be no starker illustration of how badly we are failed by our political system than the fact that lying is not only allowed but rewarded and that pointing out lying is punishable. The guys behind Led by Donkeys could see that quite clearly when they projected the image that fronts this blog on Westminster following the Butler farce.

The rare acts of decency sit in alarming contrast to the dishonesty that has become standard or, as political observers like to call it, "baked-in" under Johnson. When Health Secretary Sajid Javid caught Covid he sensibly, and as recommended by his own government, self-isolated. When Johnson and Chancellor Rishi Suank got pinged they decided the rules didn't apply to them before, yet again, making another u-turn following public outrage.

The Secretary of State for Housing, Communities, and Local Government Robert Jenrick, fast becoming the new Matt Hancock when it comes to fronting up to make lame weasel like apologies for Johnson's behaviour), rocked up on Andrew Marr to speak on Johnson's behalf and justify the PM's decision not to self-isolate. Only to find, one hour later, Johnson had made him look like a prick by changing his mind.

Johnson, of course, lied that he was never intending not to self-isolate. Though as bullshit, and bullshitters, evolve he added the little twist that he had, for a teeny tiny moment, briefly considered it. Throw a bit of confusion into the mix, get us all arguing about it, and move on to the next catastrophe for Johnson's government is nothing if it is not one built on exploiting catastrophe and division

The fact that Johnson, Sunak, and Javid were forced, willingly or not, into isolation on the much trumpeted Freedom Day didn't look good for the government - and neither did it look good for the country at a time that the UK was having the highest rate of new Covid infections in the world. Which, thankfully, has not yet translated into the horrifying number of death rates seen in the spring of 2020 and over the last winter.

I'm not sure I'd have been quite so cavalier about opening up as this government but, like everyone else, I have been enjoying being able to get out and about more (though also wary that we may (or may not - nobody knows) find ourselves stuck in again soon) and it's even meant I've been so busy I've not had time to slag the government off as much as usual. 

Don't think I've forgotten about them. Over the last few weeks I've been to an Eileen Agar exhibition at the Whitechapel and a Michael Armitage one at the Royal Academy, attended (online) a Skeptics in the Pub talk about exoplanets and alien life, met Valia and Vicki for drinks in various pubs, had a works meal with my lovely colleagues at Barton's Mill in Basingstoke, and caught up with Pam, Gary, and Doug K on the Queen Elizabeth Hall rooftop. The latter to a live soundtrack from Dennis Bovell with Janet Kay swinging by to sing Silly Games.

That was lovely. The solo walk round SE22 didn't go quite so well but SABTHEFY (Shep's Annual BBQ That Happens Every Five Years - this time after a six year wait) at Adam and Teresa's was quite a boozy do and so was my trip to the opening of The Mart Inn in Tony and Alex's garden in Kintbury. At least the relatively sedate midweek Mooney BBQ didn't result in a hangover for me.

I'm getting too old for them (truth be told, have been for a long time). The attendees at these events (and the people I have chatted to over the last few weeks have been too numerous to mention) but perhaps the most enjoyable events of all have been my Hampstead Hike with Shep, Pam, Valia, Mo, and Dave F, a brilliant TADS two-dayer in and around Llangollen with Michelle, Pam, Kathy, Adam, Teresa, Darren, Cheryl, Tommy, Luca, Neil W, Tina, Neil B, Belinda, Catherine, Justine, and Betsi and a short holiday in Hafan y Mor holiday park (the former Butlin's Pwllheli) on the Lleyn Peninsula (or Llyn Pen if you wanna go Welsh) with Michelle and Evie. It was the first time I'd seen my cute, clever, curious, kind, and funny god-daughter for FIVE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN DAYS and of course I am now missing her again as much as I did before that trip.

We built sandcastles, played in rubber rings, watched Scooby Doo, went on swings and climbing frames, and ate pizza as well as meeting crabs, shrimps, and jellyfish. Like the walks, BBQs, exhibitions, talks, and pub visits it reminded me of the good things of life so why don't I just forget writing about the government, its lies, and its failings. I guess, like Allegra Stratton, I don't fancy it just yet.