There’s so much anger. So much betrayal. Everyone has watched and waited for the moment, the exact millisecond when the move could be made and the war won, the turning point from which there would be no recovery. I waited for the ERG to assess and strike, a deadly calculation based on superior strategy and intellect. A game that had only one ending: sovereignty.
Is the game still in play? Or has cowardice won the day? Each one daring the other to make the first move, showing their hand and revealing the paucity of their tactics.
Brexit. Is it still worth it?
Heroism requires a willingness to risk all. At the end of the day, there needs to be bravery, a willingness to cast one’s lot for only two outcomes: glory or the outer wilderness. If there were any likely candidates, we might guess that they would never be found in the House of Commons. Their badge of honour is not straight dealing but subterfuge. Does anyone ever really know who their real masters are, the ones who sit in the Chamber for year after year, smooching the newcomers in the bars, gladhanding the lobbyists and steering the business in the ‘right’ direction.
The endgame was always there
I am so fed up of the game. From the time I was first able to vote, the year in which it was given to eighteen year olds, I thought I had the opportunity to join my vote with like-minded people to place our trust in those who said they shared our view of how things should be. We didn’t agree on everything but we trusted that they were better placed than we were, more able to weigh the pros and cons, to determine how best to formulate policy and make the country a better place, one in which we would do better this year than last and our children definitely so. I genuinely and foolishly thought that these people shared my view of integrity, that they would strive to do what they vowed to do, that they would not be bought off with preferment and riches and succumb to membership of the elite club which considered themselves our elders and betters.
You had one job. We told you that we wanted to take back our country. You have not. You have tried to trick us and bamboozle us with lies and deceit: saying one thing and doing something quite other. You don’t even care that we will find you out in the end, you probably laugh at our simpleminded gullibility and how easy it is to fool us, the language which confuses and dissembles. How smoothly the lies do their work. Ha, ha, ha. How we laughed over a drink in Annie’s.
Realisation when it comes, comes way too late. Vote in another election and show your displeasure with what we have done: that’s the way. No matter that the decisions now made, the consequences of betrayal, will last for generations to come and we, the ones who gave you your instructions, will be long dead by the time we have any more control over our destiny than we had in 2016.
The truth is too awful to comprehend. It looks like the time for voting is over.