'All I want for Christmas is to get my country back from shameless grifters'
"We only wanted to help," says a woman who lied about the fact she also wanted a £60m profit, a peerage, and no questions from journalists about any of it.
"This job is an immense privilege," says a man of immense privilege, as he skips into a taxpayer-funded helicopter, a taxpayer-funded jet, and taxpayer-funded retirement.
"I was just trying to get my officials to explain things to me," says a man who ignored what he was told, decided Long Covid was "b******s", and encouraged his staff to behave like they were at the Bullingdon Club 1982 Christmas party.
They treat the truth like an obstacle course, police investigations as an occupational hazard, the taxpayers and voters like fools. They're not true Tories, or proper politicians, merely bottom-feeding swamp dwellers. Public life is besmirched with shameless, lying, thieving grifters, and it is high time they were scraped off the bottom of Britain's shoes.
And Grimsby Town wants its hat back (PA)Whether it is Baroness Michelle Mone, moaning about how unfair it is that she has been found out "protecting her family from the Press" with a hidden £60m profit off the taxpayer, or Rishi Sunak intervening with the Ministry of Defence to ensure he still gets the use of £40m Royal Air Force craft to gallivant around the country, this is more than mere bad behaviour.
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It is the sort of behaviour where they don't care who knows, because they don't think it's wrong. Mone considers herself a public servant who supplied vital personal protective equipment during a crisis, and doesn't consider that a 30% profit margin is in any way excessive as far as the public she was serving are concerned. Never mind that the Department of Health is taking their firm to court after deeming the PPE unusable. It's like a waitress dumping a plateful of hot gravy in your lap, demanding a £10 tip, and being genuinely surprised when you refuse. Perhaps the hot beef fat by-product dripping down your legs is your own silly fault, Mr Customer, and did you think a millionaire's help is given for free?
There are 8 MPs currently under investigation for bringing the House of Commons into disrepute, and another two in the House of Lords. That's 0.69% of the total in Parliament, and not so much the tip of the iceberg as the drip in an ocean of filth, self-service and pocket-lining that flows through Westminster.
What difference does a standards commissioner make to people who'll still make millions next year, who'll still get a peerage off a mate, who'll still be showed in non-executive directorships from people as corrupt as them? It's like putting Veruca Salt on the naughty step: it makes not a jot of difference to the wheedling demands for more, more, more.
For some people, a golden ticket is never enough (Quentin Blake)David Cameron presided over a government that cosied up to China, bombed Libya back to the Stone Age, and demonised "swarms" of people who weren't. He's a peer and Foreign Secretary now, strutting the world stage like he has something to add. George Osborne led an economic policy so bad it has left us with bankrupt councils, crumbling schools, no social care and a pothole in each and every public service. He's boss of the British Museum and a multi-millionaire.
Nigel Farage can't get enough votes to make him king of spiders, snakes and deadly insects, but he still thinks a nation which turned off their TV sets in droves should listen to him. Rishi Sunak has more money than than the actual King but wants you to pay for everything, including his lifelong security costs. He's been more disastrous to his party fortunes and the nation as a whole than Boris Johnson, Theresa May, and Liz Truss put together, and he can't understand why you don't like him more. And Truss! She just won't go away. The human hemorrhoid in a hard-to-reach-place: so far up her own arse she could lick the back of her teeth.
And they're everywhere - running water, energy and sewage companies, presiding over failed local authorities, failed enterprises, failed bailouts. The worse they do the richer they get and if that's not topsy-turvy capitalism then you haven't read the right tweets, because tweets and TikToks are all we have time for because everything else is ON ACTUAL FIRE. Australia's on fire. Essex is on fire. Everywhere else is underwater, and there's a hosepipe ban. The UK Health and Security Agency says plague-carrying mosquitoes will be with us in a decade and someone, somewhere, will shortly be offering to sell you climate change insurance that you'll never be able to claim.
And it's the good guys getting nicked. The hippies who want less oil. The protesters who want Parliament to be more Parliamenty. The starving, frozen, huddled, exploited masses, yearning to not be trafficked, while insincere millionaires schmooze out a workshopped PR spiel that fools no-one. What next? A Home Secretary in a hi-vis vest, watching sternly as Santa Claus is arrested in a crackdown for not filing a flight plan?
"He's from Turkey and has a list of children to visit. You're NICKED, son." (Mercia Police SNT)Deep breath. Are you ok? Thanks to the Fixed Term Parliaments Act, we need to hold on only a little longer.
This isn't about Tory or Labour, nor rich and poor. It's become powerful versus the powerless, the inadmissable against the unnoticed. Somehow, we've landed up with a country where Parliament can be corrupted, but only 0.69% get investigated, where governments can change the facts by changing the law, and public service is about receiving, not giving.
They've got the morality, avarice, and pleasure-seeking greed of the average two-year-old, so if the police, courts and public opinion mean nothing to them, maybe this will work:
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"Dear Santa, we've been very good this year, but those in charge of running the country are nothing but a bunch of hucksters who would squeeze the festive joy out of a Labrador puppy, charge you for the sherry and nick the mince pie. All we want for Christmas is a general election - not just to change the government, but to change the bloody record. Perhaps then they'll know what the Naughty List means, and they'll get a present they really deserve - removal of all their baubles, a bonfire for their excuses, their lies in the back of the Boxing Day bin lorry.
"And if you can't do that, please could you at least tell Rudolph to dollop a big one over Michelle Mone's yacht."
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