One of the advantages of
recording my daily life is that I have a record of what I did and when I did
it. On Saturday 7 October 2006 I went to a wedding where I necked twenty-one
pints of London Pride. The next day I got up and built a fence. Last night I
had one (rather iffy) pint of Tribute and a pint of San Miguel and this
morning I felt like death warmed up.
As I suffered I watched the last
episode of this season of “F is for Family” then turned to the Internet
to see what I’d missed overnight. There was the usual political pro-and anti-
Brexit stuff being bandied about on social media; neither side seemingly
letting verifiable facts get in the way of a good rant. It does bother me that
people are *so* quick to re-post any old lies or drivel with no care as
to whether or not it is true, or how offensive it might be.
As I drove to
work the pundits on the radio were talking about how the chief financial
officer of Chinese telecoms giant Huawei has been granted bail.
Apparently she's arranged for her company to go against all sorts of sanctions
that the USA has put in place against Iran.
They were
saying on the radio that the Chinese constitution states that if the Chinese
government was to ask Huawei for access
to all the American data, then the firm is legally
obliged to hand it over. No one saw that giving all sorts of government-related
confidential telecommunication contracts to a Chinese firm was *not*
going to keep very much secret…
In the same
vein there was also talk about how the American army's secret information is
going to be stored in cloud form controlled by servers belonging to various
Russian oligarchs.
Does no one think
any of this through?
Suddenly
there was a "stop press!!"
moment when some breaking news was
announced. The Conservative Party's officials had received a flurry
of letters of no confidence in the Prime Minister this morning. It was
announced that there was to be an emergency vote of confidence in her abilities
this evening.
Whilst she's
doing a rather bad job (quite piss-poor, really), I doubt anyone could
do better in the circumstances. And it was rather cowardly of her detractors to
wait until she was out of the country before knifing her in the back. Over
lunch I read something on Facebook which really sums up Mrs May's predicament.
"Two
years ago the Prime Minister resigned because fifty-two per cent of the nation
voted that the government should build a submarine out of cheese. Mrs May
didn't think that building a submarine out of cheese was a good idea (or even
possible), but in order to become Prime Minister she had to pretend it could be
done. And to her credit that's what she did. Two years later she presented the
nation with a submarine made out of cheese. As cheese submarines go, it was
rather nice. Admittedly it was utterly unfit for the purpose for which it was
intended. But what do you expect? It was a submarine made out of cheese.
However having built a
rather crappy submarine out of cheese she is now faced with all sorts of people
claiming that a less crap cheese submarine could have been built. Of course,
they are all lying. You can't build a non-crap submarine out of cheese. It
can’t be done. But Mrs May can't call anyone out on the matter because she's
just spent two years claiming that she *could* make a decent submarine out of
cheese.
There are now two
obvious questions to be answered. Firstly whatever possessed Mrs. May to think
she could build a decent submarine out of cheese in the first place, and
secondly who on Earth feels that they or anyone else could now do better."
We had a
rather good bit of dinner and a bottle of plonk and had a very enjoyable evening
watching “Celebrity Lego Masters” whilst the members of Parliament were
voting whether or not to keep on with Mrs. May.
It turned out
she lived to fight
another day. However her submarine is still made of cheese…
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