Kakistocracy XXVII:The Garden of Unearthly Shites.

"He lied about his Brexit deal, he lied on the side of the bus. He lied to his wife, he lied to the Queen, he lies to all of us. His government tried to change the law that meant if you protested they could do what the fuck they want while you would get arrested. The mess he caused with his Brexit deal he passes off as corona. If you dare to mention empty shelves you're branded a remoaner. The decorating bill for his flat was paid by Tory donors. He doesn't know how many kids he's got. He can't control his boner. Boris Johnson is still a fucking cunt". - Boris Johnson Is Still A Fucking Cunt, The Kunts (No.5 in the UK charts on Xmas Day)

"Boris Johnson is a cunt" - Leeds Utd fans in their home game against Arsenal

"Stand up if you hate Boris" - darts fan at the 2022 PDC World Darts Championship in Alexandra Palace, London

"Thank you for submitting your audition for the next series of #LineofDuty but we’re looking for a character with at least one redeeming moral principle and a performance that places even just a scintilla of doubt in the audience’s mind that he might not be totally bent." - Line of Duty creator Jed Mercurio on seeing Boris Johnson dressed up as a police officer

Has the tide finally turned against the most accomplished, and most deadly, liar in British history? Are the scales slipping from the eyes of the 'Boris' faithful after years, decades, of corruption, negligence, incompetence, cruelty, racism, threats of violence, and complete and utter bullshit? To support the cosplay copper cunt right now you would need to be one of three things:- a brainwashed dupe, a fucking imbecile of the highest order, or someone with something to gain by supporting him - a cabinet member or a party donor.

Unless you're one of those things, there's no excuse and, to be honest, there never was. Boris Johnson hasn't recently become unfit for office. He was never fit for office in the first place and many of the members of his party who recently voted against him knew that all along. He was the blunt instrument they used to achieve power and now, it seems, he's served his purpose.

Except, as we all know, he is one slippery bastard and will be looking to throw a few people under the bus, as he did Allegra Stratton, to cling on to power as tank jockey Liz Truss, little Rishi Sunak, and rave gimp Michael Gove swarm like vultures over what they hope will soon be his bloated corpse.

 

If he survives much longer, who knows. In some ways it doesn't matter. Every candidate lined up to take over from him comes from the Johnsonian wing of the Tory party where lying and adherence to a bad idea (Brexit) are not just not problems but positive advantages. Johnson, if he stays in power or not, has cheapened UK politics and the UK as a nation for at least a decade and possibly for generations or longer.

Most likely he has exacerbated the break up of the UK too. So, for now, we take our small pleasures where we get them and the place we got the best of them, before Christmas, was in North Shropshire. In 2019 the now disgraced Owen Paterson won North Shropshire, for the Tories, with 62.7% of the vote. North Shropshire has been a Tory seat since the beginning of the 19th century. One of the safest Tory seats in the country.

On 16th December 2021 the Tory party, with Neil Shastri-Hunt as their candidate, received just 31.6% of the vote. They came second and lost the seat to the Liberal Democrats whose candidate Helen Morgan won 47.2% of the vote. It was a 31.1% swing against the Tories, one of the biggest swings in British electoral history. If the result was repeated nationally not only would the Tories be out of power but Boris Johnson would not longer be an MP, let alone the PM.

Of course, the circumstances were specific to the region (Owen Paterson's corruption and Boris Johnson's attempts to ignore his corruption, as well as Neil Shastri-Hunt being seen as an outsider from Birmingham) but they also reflected national concerns. The concern, primarily, being that Boris Johnson is still a fucking cunt and he heads up a government packed full of fucking cunts.

Former culture war secretary, and one of Johnson's most loyal lickspittles, Oliver Dowden talked of being given a "kicking" and warned Johnson that "one more strike and he's out". It'd be nothing more than he deserves. The ignominy of being known as Britain's worst Prime Minister ever is now all but certain but .... still he clings on.

A floater in the lavatory of British politics, surrounded by unsightly skidmarks that need washing away quickly. It's odd that the straw that broke the camel's back when it comes to the country's opinion of the liar formerly known as Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson is the drip drip revelation of all those Downing Street Christmas parties at the time we were being told, by the very people having those parties, we must be very careful. Or prepare to pay the price not for being so.

There's Shaun Bailey, clearly not social distancing, as he poses with bowls of food, men in Christmas jumpers, and some prick in braces who looks like an extra from Wall Street. Then there's Johnson himself at the legendary works meeting in which you could both bring your baby and drink wine. I'd probably rather attend one of Hieronymus Bosch's get togethers than either of these sordid little soirees.

The garden, or kitchen, of earthly delights they most definitely are not. Even now Johnson's backbenchers are saying masks are a socialist threat to our freedom while, paradoxically you'd think, trying to pass laws to ban protest. It's almost as if the only freedoms they genuinely care about are their own.

In Johnson's mixed up world, one he has to retrofit to accommodate his latest malfeasance, we were left with a situation this Christmas in which if you wanted to go to the office you had to take cheese and wine with you and pretend it's a party. As you were allowed in for them but not for work. This from the party of business. Or as Johnson once had it, the party of "fuck business".

For me, I couldn't go in to the party either. Because I only went and got, late as ever, Covid. Most likely the Omicron variant. It certainly had the same sort of symptoms. I'm double jabbed and was even boosted five days before I got any symptoms so for me it was like a bad cold, a mild flu. Without the jabs I guess it would have been worse. I'm glad I didn't need to find out.

It didn't ruin my Christmas completely, far from it, but it did mean it was a pretty quiet one this year. In fact, since I last wrote one of these Kakistocracy blogs, life (personally) has been alright. I've chatted on the phone with Ben, Shep, Michelle, Simon, Adam, and both my parents. I've done several Kahoot quizzes (Ian set one on Xmas Eve - Sharon won but I felt very much the Lewis Hamilton to her Max Verstappen, Sharon set a double quiz - I won one and Mike the other, Matt set a NYE one - won by his wife Nat, and my Dad did an 81 question quiz to mark his 81st birthday on the 2nd January this year).

I even set a quiz for Evie and she got every single question right. She's just too clever for me now. The highlight of my festive break was spending time with her and her mum, Michelle, in Wales over New Year which involved walks in Erddig and Hafod, vegan Chinese food, and lots of fart jokes.

It was great, too, to meet Shep for a nice long walk from Battersea to Camden via Chelsea which, of course, ended in a curry. I caught up with my mate Jim for some drinks in Brixton and then, two days later, was back in Brixton for the first UXD in two years (which was great fun). I've even done some culture (Heather Phillipson at Tate Britain and Poussin at the National Gallery).

It was while taking in the Poussin exhibition that the cough started to get raspy and repetitive so I sacked off my plan for a pint and a film and headed home to bed. The next day I walked to Catford and took a PCR test which proved positive. It was a disappointment to have to cancel my works Xmas meal at ASK in Basingstoke and a meal with my parents in that town's Spruce Goose pub the next day but, of course, I couldn't go.

My isolation period (which I have written about in more detail elsewhere) was made bearable by the kindness of friends but special thanks must go to Kathy for some lovely Monty Bojangles truffles and Michelle for her 'care package' of Snowdonia cheese (the Red Thunder is amazing). I should also thank Mum and Dad for the Christmas gift of some quite unusual t-shirts that will, all being well, aired on appropriate, or possibly inappropriate occasions, during 2022.

A year I am actually looking forward to (though, of course, I have some trepidation). I would love to complete a full series of both TADS and LbF walks as well as make some headway on the Thames path project. I hope, also, to continue blogging about art, televsion, and film and, who knows, maybe even start up some live music and theatre blogs again soon (it's been a long time but the music ones, at least, should start soon - I'm off to the Rockaway Beach festival in Butlin's, Bognor Regis, in two days).

I'll also, as long as Johnson stays in power, keep blogging about his criminality and unsuitability for office. When Johnson's own cabinet secretary, Simon Case, has to resign due to being complicit in the crimes he's investigating and when David Frost, Frosty the No Man, steps down as he can't agree with the direction he himself has enabled Johnson to take the country in it feels like the walls are closing in on Johnson's reign of chaos.

But don't rule this bastard regaining his popularity out and don't think any other high ranking Tory right now is much better. There were good and honest people in the Tory party. They either left or were kicked out when Johnson gained power. There is no honesty, no common decency, and no truth whatsoever left in that party now. The only reasonable direction is a move away from them as soon as possible.

Happy new year everyone. Don't let the bastards grind you down. Grind the bastards down instead.