Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that to happen next.
So, since I don’t have a record entitled “Don’t Let the Door Hit You in the Arse on Your Way Out”, this will have to do:
..which is perhaps a little too mournful than anyone other than ‘Mad’ Nad Dorries should be feeling today.
Allow me to try again:
No, that’s not quite right either.
How about this:
Better, but it still doesn’t quite capture the mood.
Wait. I have it. The perfect record for the demise of the self-proclaimed Big Dog:
Except it’s not actually over yet. Anyone watching his resignation speech today can’t help but have noted that there was not one note of contrition in his voice, no acknowledgement that this was all of his own doing. The only thing he said he was sorry about was that he was having to resign, giving up “the best job in the world” (something which, after the tawdry revelations last week, the current Mrs Johnson may be a little affronted to hear). The over all feeling I got watching him was that he still doesn’t think that he’s done anything wrong.
(I say “current Mrs Johnson” as I do wonder how long she will remain, shall we say, ‘in position’. For without power, what does he have that she finds so attractive? Besides which, it’s only a matter of time before he gets caught dipping his chip in someone else’s sauce bottle.)
Shortly after his speech, I found myself in the unique, unsual and uncomfortable position of actually agreeing with something that Tory MP and cheer-leader for economic suicide Andrew Bridgen said in an interview: “He didn’t say the words ‘I resign’,” he noted, before adding what is tantamount to his catch-phrase: “Leave means Leave”, that smug look on his face that nobody would ever get tired of punching.
So perhaps this is a much more relevant tune:
Now it pains me to have to admit that Bridgen could ever be right (as in correct) about anything, and it’s certainly not a circumstance I hope or anticipate ever being in again, but he has a point.
For Johnson may have resigned, but he will remain in place until his successor is chosen, a process which is likely to take some time. We’ve been here before on several occasions recently, but to refresh your memory: Conservative MPs who wish to be considered put themselves forward as candidates and form campaign teams to seek the backing of parliamentary colleagues. If there are multiple candidates, the field is then whittled down in a series of ballots until only two remain, at which point their names are sent to grassroots Tory members across the country for a vote on the final choice.
That process is unlikely to complete until September, so we’re stuck with him until then. And so he has just over a month to continue lining the pockets of his oligarch buddies, whilst also wreaking as much havoc on the economy and our pockets as possible.
As the candidates make themselves know – and it seems there will be many – I’ll try to return to assess (read: slag off) each of them. But until then, one name has already emerged as a favourite, a name I did not recognise which, given that he is apparently the Defence Secretary, and given, to use Tory vernacular, “we’re at war with Russia” (Spoiler: we’re not, Ukraine is), it goes to show what a fine job he’s been doing.
I speak of Ben Wallace, and since I first heard his name earlier today, I’ve had this in my brain, which I shall leave you with for today: