About this crazy thing that sits in the middle of our collective unconscious ...it just lounges around all day juggling these hugely contradictory ideas -- I mean, it _is_ just a gibbering chimp, innit?
Who is the one person --the default, go-to person-- that all rabble-rousing, studenty, city-working, hipstery lefties love to hate? Tony Blair. Yet he's vehemently in favour of Remain, the self-same hobby-horse that all the rabble-rousing, studenty, city-working, hipstery lefties spend their time wonking over. Why do they not see this little clue that everything they believe in is just a weird, rich man's conceit?
On RT today (I watch RT because I am a soulless Russian spy), there was a documentary about Patrick Crone, a French CEO, previously in charge of a ubiquitous industrial company, who'd sold off his assets to foreigners without consulting the government. The French ministers went nuts. The Yellow Jacket rabble went nuts. Yet how do we treat his English counterpart, Sir James Dyson, for similar moral crimes? We just ignore him, and carry on buying his (let's be honest) pointless housewifey tat. So are people on the continent more working class than us? Must be. Except ...why then would they spend billions for the pleasure of signing up to an institution (the EU) that allows race-to-the-bottom economics to spread everywhere like shh on a IRA hunger striker's wall?
And that reminds me. The big Brexit-cancelling Irish border dispute? We live in one of the most bureaucratic, over-administrated countries in the world. Employ _an army_ of clipboard-carrying jobsworths to check every square millimetre of every pallet that goes in and out of Ireland. It'll just be business as usual won't it, unfortunately?