Nowhere to Hide...

Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson is a resilient political animal. His hair is also comical. These attributes align The Right Honourable Mr Johnson with the 45th President of the United States of America, His Excellency Donald John Trump. Another common characteristic of both political leaders is their pathological lying - pardon me, their affinity to "alternative facts". Naturally, all politicians lie. A politician without a lie is like a baker without wheat. But there's lying, and then there's lying as an Olympic sport, the same way there are great chess players, and then there's Gary Kasparov. 

In all due fairness, Commander in Chief Trump is truly in a class of his own. But the Eton prepped, Oxford-educated Mr Johnson is a noble apprentice. Where the apprentice may have the edge over the master, however, is in his seeming ability to feign an apology. Whereas the political genius (who was incidentally cheated from a second term as Emperor of the Americas, by a malevolent conspiracy involving imported bamboo ballots from China and by tampered voting machines hacked by Fidel Castro and Hugo Chavez from beyond the grave (those pesky Communists sure are smart)) never apologises, because that is not what strong men do, Mr Johnson knows the value of an empty confession. 

The Prime Minister did not know of any lockdown transgressing events in No. 10. If he did know, he was assured that any gatherings were sufficiently "work-related" not to fall foul of the COVID legislation. He did not attend any parties in Downing Street, even though some may have happened. Since the Metropolitan Police issued 126 criminal fines to Downing Street, including one to the Prime Minister, his wife, and his Chancellor (the one with the non-dom wife), Mr Johnson had to repurpose his line of thought. Yes, he was sorry that he attended the parties that didn't happen (though he was caught off guard), but look on the bright side, he only got one fine for one brief attendance at an event. Plus, he told us that the law was vague about what was classified as an acceptable work event and what fell on the criminal side of the lockdown labyrinthine of rules. The Prime Minister should have a word with the idiots who came up with these imperceptible restrictions. 

Instinctively, one may struggle to evaluate a social gathering by politicians as a scandal of epic proportions. In abstracto, how are we supposed to feel animus for some boring politicos guzzling wine and beer in the confines of the Premier's residence? There's rampant inflation, food shortages and a Third World War brewing. Notwithstanding, the so-called Partygate affair constitutes the most nakedly unconscionable scandal in modern British political history. The people of this country have a duty to remember that this government instituted the most aggressive and all-encompassing restrictions on fundamental human freedoms in peacetime history. It fined its citizens for gathering to protest; the police tackled to the ground women conducting a vigil for a young woman that was raped, tortured and murdered by a member of the police force; students (not the wealthiest cohort) were fined thousands of pounds for partying. I guess they were drinking at the wrong place (duh!).

While the citizens of this country were frightened by an endless stream of propaganda and forced to forego the funerals of their loved ones, unable to visit elderly relatives in care homes, unable to work, and banned from socialising, this government was partying until the blackout (and let's not forget the billions wasted on dodgy PPE contracts to the government's pals). 

The report by Sue Gray, a civil servant who has inadvertently become a household name, highlights a culture at Downing Street more akin to the Animal House picture than the hallowed seat of the Executive. Drunkards vomiting everywhere, wine on the walls, abuse of cleaning staff. People rushing through backdoors to evade security cameras with suitcases full of wine. This sounds like a poor concept by a mediocre screenwriter!

Even Her Majesty, the Head of State (it's Her Majesty's Government, after all), mourned the death of her soulmate in solitude, abiding by her government's draconian and hysterical restrictions. 

This poor, persecuted Prime Minister has ruled out resignation, instead assuring us that he is "humbled by the whole experience." Ah, isn't life so much easier when you don't give a shit? Damn the peasants; this government will party when it wants to and how it wants to.