Nightmare

It’s not about Brexit any more; Brexit is gone, betrayed, smothered at birth by an avalanche of mealy-mouthed, self-declared bien-pensants who genuinely believe in their own beneficence and that they know better. Along with millions of others I waited – pretty patiently, I think – to have my say, having been a year too young to vote to leave in 1975. I have watched as young people “whose futures have been stolen” did nothing while my past was being misappropriated, dismantled or rewritten.

Since I attained my own majority I have seen my country, my England slandered and libelled and cast as the villain. I have seen our history overturned and I had to stand and watch as Tony Blair’s treacherous administration deliberately altered the face of my fellow countrymen, so that we were no longer recognisable to each other. I listened to the lies. I heard a succession of paid men tell us that sending all that could scrape a few desultory GCSEs to university was some form of progress; they were told that they were too good to wait at table, or pick fruit.

Then I watched as millions were imported to do those character building jobs that my generation and generations before did, jobs that shaped our work ethic and determination to succeed. And as the new graduates settled into a life of unemployment the whole fraud was heralded as some form of economic miracle. A miracle indeed when you can displace perfectly able workers while paying others a wage which attracts no tax yet somehow pays for the pensions of all those complaining ‘old people’. There’s your enemy, kids, your own grandparents, they said.

And I now find myself possibly part of another problem, because having rejected academia, for which they are not suited, thousands are turning to manual trades. So in part I am helping to serve an industry which is not about turning out quality tradesmen but feeding a voracious appetite for qualifications. Qualifications demanded by an ever burgeoning bureaucracy which – like Parliament – prefers credentials over competence. And still our British trainees are regularly overlooked in favour of incomers who push wages even lower.

Brexit was about being British, not European – not some sort of insubstantial allegiance to nothing – it was about reclaiming a sovereignty that was almost unique in the world, an actual sovereignty of the people. Now we see that has become just a sham. Brexit wasn’t meant to be about reclaiming that sovereignty from the grasping hands of party politics; it shouldn’t have been necessary. But now we see the political class for how they truly are... the biggest part of the problem.

The Tories have turned a shade of red I hoped I’d never see. Labour has long abandoned its heartlands for the sunny uplifted faces of the new British, those who have made their homes here because Labour wanted to rub the right’s noses in diversity, unaware of, or not caring that their interpretation of  the right’ included their own bedrock voters; a horrible twisting of political covenants which is mirrored across the continent as more and more Eurosceptic parties emerge, organise and begin to take back control.

Time to kick the EU out of Britain.

This isn’t about Brexit any more, this is about the destruction of the EU. From within, if needs be, but in any case by that attrition as more and more countries rise up against the tyranny of the velvet-gloved tyrants of the new communism. A civilised, orderly parting of the ways was not just a dream, it was eminently achievable and could have paved the way for a reform of the EU’s more extreme ambitions. But now, whether Britain is in or out, this is about ending Verhofstadt’s federal dream and filling his nights full of mares.