As I sit and try and make sense of the conundrum that is Brexit and, of course fail, I realise so many of the words I keep hearing have hidden meanings that might explain some of what is going down at the moment.
This epiphany came when considering that much discussed medieval concept of the proroguing of Parliament. Should our Prime Minister ‘prorogue’ we are asked? To which I answer that I’m not entirely sure if I am pro-rogue or anti-rogue. On balance I’ve always favoured those who are a little roguish so I’m marginally in the rogue camp if not totally pro-rogue, more rogue-ambivalent really.
Here are some that I spotted:
‘conservative’ – to trick the waiting classes
labour – to have sex with a dullard
Johnson – a derivative toilet
Corbyn – a garbage can for the centre
Rees-Mogg – upper class slang for a basmati cat
Bercow – the first in a numerical sequence of complete berks
Referendum- to umpire a game where the contestants are encouraged to rip apart Mr Cummings
I realise that many of you will read this and think ‘he’s lost it’ and I think, maybe that’s probably a natural reaction to the Alice In Wonderpants world of British politics right now. Ever since I saw the Matrix I’ve wondered if the world around me is merely a construct of my febrile imagination; if that is true then whatever it is I’m on, I should really cut down.
And as someone pointed out to me just this morning, if we do get past this current collective tilting at Windmills we still have the transition period to sort through the detail. Oh frabjous day, calloo callay!!