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Best in Show
As we all left work for the long weekend, poised to stuff our faces with Easter eggs before washing them down with drinks in the sun, our favourite mathematician (“It will cost…..It will cost…..about…..about…….hmmmmm) Diane Abbott started early by swigging a mojito on the tube home. Not just any mojito; an M&S mojito.
Flagrant disregard for the law is seemingly fine for the potential Home Secretary if it’s a middle class one purchased from the high street darling that we all love but barely shop at. (As an aside, remember when Woolworths shut and we all sobbed into our supermarket bought pick n mix and struggled to recall when we last gave them our money?)
People found themselves itching to confess #IStandWithDiane whilst simultaneously needing to reach for a second can at the thought of her being in charge of enforcing the laws they were defending her right to break. Diane’s influencer career was cut short when M&S refused to publish whether there was a spike in weekend sales of said cans. Kudos to those who requested it.
On Easter Sunday, some excuses for human beings blew up churches and hotels in Sri Lanka killing hundreds. There are no words. The country is reeling and the world responded as it does; mainly trying desperately to find new adjectives to express themselves.
The week continued to provide us with hypocrites who don’t do irony, in the form of climate change protestors who achieved nothing but standstill traffic throughout central London, increasing the very emissions they were protesting against. Emma Thompson flew in from LA on a bellowing jumbo jet landing as well as a chunky carbon footprint, a foot in her mouth. Apparently these emissions don’t really count tough. Hmmm. Unsurprisingly, the news coverage was primarily about people they could do with having on side being thoroughly irritated, the Mayor of London being one. They need some PR advice if you ask us.
On Tuesday MPs returned to the House after the Easter recess, to resume, well, spats and snarks in the main. The one thing uniting people across the chamber was disgust (again, we need more adjectives) at the murder of Northern Irish journalist, Lyra McKee. The IRA issued their version of an apology. Their Sorry not Sorry was delivered with about as much sincerity, and definitely as much abhorrent audacity, as when Kevin Spacey blamed his (alleged) sexual harassment on his sexuality.
Thankfully a beautifully eloquent young Swedish girl offered some hopefulness, urging, in the words of Lyra McKee, us to ‘change our own world.’
Greta Thunberg, one hell of an articulate speaker, held her own on the Today programme, which G&T hero Diane fails time and again to do. Greta talked openly about her Aspergers, her experience of depression and why she believes there is a climate emergency that warrants her being off school for months at a time. Our slight sarcasm aside, she’s a breath of fresh air (the little we have left).
As a result of her candid lucidity, Greta got leading UK politicians to pay attention simply by speaking. The woman who glued herself to a tube train in the name of the environment should take note.
There’s more politics, but at least we haven’t mentioned the B word yet. Change UK launched their Euro elections campaign, and like any good political initiative, they led with their Johnson. Theirs is a Rachel. The Party are indeed offering something new and refreshing to the UK political scene; a proliferation of names, not so much policy. There is a largely positive reception for pockets of unity across the political spectrum, with the exception of the surreal new couple of note, Nigel Farage and Ann Widdecombe.
On Wednesday, Jeremy Corbyn attempted to speak moderate human again, no-one really heard it. We genuinely can’t remember what was said.
He’s the shy kid at the back of a noisy classroom of hyper boisterous children, singing a ditty that’s ever so sweet, but Vicar’s daughter Theresa is stubbornly holding her breath, posh kid Jacob is trying to get more kids to play with him, and Boris the underachieving genius has bumbled the automated flushing toilet to emerge dripping all over the floor causing a safety hazard.
What’s that Jez love? Did you say something?
By Wednesday the PM had decided not enough of her frenemies were involved in the running of the country. Not content with allowing Corbyn to hang out in No10 for the last few weeks, completely failing to understand the concept that she won (kind of) and he lost (definitely), Theresa invited China to come and man the country’s phones. Ok, she invited Huawai (How WAY, Waaaa Way…no we’re not sure either) to build parts of our pending 5G network, against the advice of basically everyone.
Thursday brought the news that the anti vax movement are cutting through, with cases of measles soaring worldwide. The nudie rudie climate change protesters by comparison seem quite sweet. We like the approach taken by a Portland ad agency who decided the best way to tackle fools, is to take the p*ss out of them. They’ve launched a series of snarky anti vax apparel, the proceeds of which will go to a vaccination education charity.
The Health Secretary ‘doesn’t rule out’ banning those not vaccinated from attending school. Having the kids at home more? That big thud you heard was the antivaxxers dropping their placards quick time.
Friday is dominated by senior government ministers claiming ‘not me gov’ at being responsible for leaking the Huawai news from the National Security Council. There’s talk of a criminal investigation. Are we too cynical or does this smell of distraction politics?
Some titbits you may have missed whilst awaiting news of the Royal Baby (we all are right?):
Look at that, we got right to the end without mentioning Schrodinger’s policy. That’s because once again this week, everything is changing, but nothing has changed.