We have to remember, we little people, that our humble and inferior opinions do not matter. Not only do they not matter, even to contemplate them dirties the debate. The muddy, murky waters of our bile and prejudice run shallow and slow and eventually drowns us all in the morass of hate into which those waters drain. We are unworthy, we are subhuman, we are – in the enlightened parlance of the left – scum.
So, it is with great delight that I welcome President-elect
Trump to once again lead the ‘free’ world. Also, once again, he has been
elected not despite all the protestations of the left, but precisely because of
them. As the bonfire societies of Lewes burn an effigy of Nigel Farage, at the
time of burning unaware that he is about to become the most significant figure
in British politics (again) the media world turned to the US election and ‘watch
parties’ were broadcast around the globe.
Eagerly, the huge lefty love-in which is comprised of the
greasy pole climbers in the various arms of the establishment awaited the news
that victory would be theirs. They could not wait to hear confirmation of the
polling that said their beloved Kamala would be installed as the first
black/brown female President in history. They were aching to see The Donald put
firmly in his place… and so it came to pass. His place will once more be 1600 Pennsylvania
Avenue, Washington, District of Columbia.
Oh, the wailing and gnashing of teeth in Terribly Trotsky
Towers was fierce this morning and throughout the day as realisation grew.
Emily Maitliss, Alastair Campbell, Rory Stewart, Emily Thornberry, Paul Mason…
the list goes on, and they hate all of it. Of particular joy was knowing that the
obnoxious lefty halfwit, James O’Brien, has been driven half out of his very
short cul-de-sac of a mind by OrangeManBad.
And of course, the pundits are now out in force, being
wise after the event. But there is a peculiar feature of the left-wing brain,
which is its inability to grasp what is blindingly obvious to everybody else. We
knuckle-dragging righties are so incredibly thick yet even we can see it. And,
confronted by something we don’t understand we have the ability to admit we don’t
get it, decide whether we are going to be concerned about it, shrug, fart and
move along.
But not the left. Oh no. Not for them the admittance of
confusion or defeat. The wiring in their brains is cleverly routed so that for
every synaptic gap a ganglion is born to join the dots. And as a result, the fact
that more people voted for Trump is not because more people wanted to vote for
Trump – on whatever impulse – is no reason to try and work out what those people
were thinking, but it is reason to condemn their thoughts as thuggish and wrong.
The world isn’t going to end next Tuesday, the planet is
not going to die, and whatever fates lie ahead, Donald Trump will play but a
small part in them. Closer to home, people ought to focus on what is best for
them, and politicians need to learn to listen. We have pressing concerns about
our demographics, our culture, our education, our futures; and it is clear, to
us at least, that our so-called leaders are not up the task of fixing the foundations.
So, politicians and pundits, pontificators and panjandrums, have your little weep, lie still in a silent dark cell of despond if you must. Grieve all you like for something that never was. But once you have wept yourselves dry and emerge, blinking, into daylight, for goodness’ sake, get a grip.
