Tipping point

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© Phys.org                   Melting Antarctica: solves the avalanche problem, huh

As we’ve known for a while in virtue of the campaigning group, 38 Degrees is the angle at which snowflakes come together to form an avalanche. In short, E pluribus unum.

At around One o’clock on this hot, snowball-chance-in-Hell afternoon, Mrs May left the chamber of the House of Commons to a standing ovation on her way to tender her resignation to HM The Queen.

Tomorrow, assuming the Queen’s agreeable, is Mr Johnson’s first full day as Prime Minister. The weather in London is forecast to be 38° centigrade.

Just sayin’.

Not so splendid isolation

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Image: Stefan Wermuth, Reuters ……..The Mays in Downing Street, 9.vi.17

You don’t have to be that long in the tooth to recall Election Days +1 where the victor, hundreds of party members and well-wishers are pressed into the Downing Street cul-de-sac, their throng thrilling to the vibration of victory with the glorious prospect of power ahead: humanity spilling from windows in cheering-wreathed smiles, bobbing heads of the prime ministerial team wholly refreshed from weeks of 18-hour days by winning #generalelection.

For the Prime Minister and her husband on Friday, the street’s echoing emptiness must have felt even more shocking and isolating than it looks.

The knives were out long before the last Count had counted. Yet her two advisors, Nick Timothy and Fiona Hill, responsible for the puzzling Team Theresa approach – nothing short of a doom-laden no-brainer – appear to have Teflon armour and firm friends across many sectors of media.

Is discerning those to whom we listen from those we listen-and-act not a function of being an adult? Yet, it seems these advisors saw an opportunity for self-aggrandizement to which Mrs May was immune or deaf.

All of us are subject to areas in which our judgement is poor. Naturally enough, these are not those we ought pursue. Politicians need sound political judgement in order to take their Constituency seat and a spot on the green benches.

For the country to flourish, the categorical imperative implicit to goodwill and selflessness has to inform action from here on in. If you’re unfamiliar with Kant, I’m referring to doing the right thing. If familiar, waft warm wishes to Downing Street. They’re needed.

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The above was posted this morning, Saturday Tenth June. The Two o’clock News told me this puzzling pair of Advisers had resigned. Hadn’t realized these pages carried such suasive weight.

Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore

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Will Theresa May be wearing ruby slippers as she glides into No. 10 on Wednesday? 

The political scene in overview then:

  • Tories: …. few, we band of brothers …
  • Labour: Twas on the good ship Venus …
  • LibDems: Hello, it’s me
  • UKIP: …. wide eyed and legless …
  • Scotland:  My love is like a red, red rose ….
  • Eire: Seventy years man and boy, never have I danced for joy
  • Wales: .. slow black, crow black fishing-boat bobbing sea

Mrs May has been Home Secretary a long time and is consequently woven into the fabric of Homeland Security. This is evidenced by her vigorous attraction to Trident, Britain’s quartet of nuclear submarines. Prudently, the Armed Services will have mapped her understanding to their perspective: it is not in their interests to lose this ‘deterrent’. Objectively, one wonders, how truly crucial these stealthy vessels are to national well-being?

Trident’s renewal will be debated this week, before the House rises: but before formal transition of power? Tell me: for whose benefit are we contemplating to spend a sum anywhere from £22bn to £205bn, depending on which report you read? A contract has already been awarded to build outflying, protective helicopters which might seem a clue that the debate is window dressing.*

Should we Munchkins not all take a breath and compose ourselves before hurtling on? It’d be unfortunate to grab at ephemeral solutions to profoundly important issues merely to appease the Miss Grolsches of the world?

There is no short-cut to acquiring the Testimonial, Medal and Clock (Brains, Courage, Heart)  the Wizard handed over to the weary Yellow Brick Off-Roaders and dashing to quick-fixes is always doomed.

There’s no place like home anymore as home is unalterably changed.

* we’ll be returning to this, most fishy story.