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Well. More or less, give or take, in a manner of speaking, up to a point, we are sort of where we were a while back. Quite where that is tends to be a mystery to everybody.
In 2016, which feels like about three centuries ago now, at least regarding Brexit, the vote to leave the European Union came about.
Since then, those on the remain side have insisted somebody cheated, (quite probably), those on the leave side have insisted they won democratically speaking, (quite probably), those on the remain side want to have another referendum to see if they can win this time, (unlikely – that’s another referendum not them winning. They might or they might not), and those on the leave side are starting to feel like cats.
You know what I mean? No? You don’t? I will explain.
A cat sits at the door clearly wanting to leave. You open the door and the cat sits there. You close the door and the cat looks upset because it wants to leave, so you open the door and the cat sits there.
Trust me. I have eight cats. The hinges on my door must be made of an indestructible metal.
In fairness, the leavers aren’t actually behaving like cats, simply because nobody has yet opened the damn door. If they were cats, they would have scratched the eyes out of remainers by now.
The Prime Minister responsible for starting this, David Cameron, buggered off as soon as leave won. He was replaced by the distinctly odd Theresa May. She was known to be a remainer but kept insisting that ‘Brexit means Brexit’ without actually explaining what Brexit means.
“What does Brexit mean Prime Minister?”
“It means Brexit”
“Yes, but what does it actually mean?”
“It means Brexit”
It was like listening to an interview with a single cell amoeba that had misplaced its single cell.
It didn’t help that Theresa May, aka Theresa Mayhem, was actually a remainer. It must have been hard for her to accept that we were leaving the EU.
In fact it clearly was. It was so hard she insisted we were leaving on March 29th, 2019 over one hundred times, only for us not to leave on March 29th, 2019. Not even once.
Somehow we ended up with the seemingly random date of October 31st, 2019. Rumors that Theresa May wanted to announce October 32nd, 2019, may, or may not, have any foundation.
Then she went. Where she went nobody knows. Well, they do because she’s still here. She didn’t vanish like Doctor Who or something. She just stopped being Prime Minister. Possibly because she was absolutely useless.
In fact she was so useless, there is every likelihood that she will be made a ‘lady’ – or what ever it is – and elevated to The House of Lords. That is where most useless politicians end up so, that is probably where she will end up.
The Conservative government then needed another Prime Minister.
Prime Ministers are normally decided by General Elections. the people vote for whichever party they like, and the party with the most votes wins. Their leader then becomes Prime Minister.
In this case, the Conservatives have already done all that stuff and, er, not won.
Let me explain. If you don’t win a General Election in Britain, your leader can still be Prime Minister. Basically, you have won, in the sense that you have got the most votes, but you haven’t got enough votes to form a government. In this case, the Conservatives got some Irish mob to team up with them. That way they got a majority. See? Simples.
So, regarding Brexit. Mayhem has gone so the Tories need a new leader to lead them, and be Prime Minister.
Said new leader and Prime Minister will, possibly, get us through the Brexit finishing post. Assuming they do, we will have left the EU.
If that actually happens, it is quite possible that my favorite expression of surprise will become a national saying and the entire nation, in unison, will say “Well, fuck me sideways.”
On the other hand, I suppose, they might not. Probably because they will not know my favorite saying of surprise. Also, it doesn’t make much sense when you think about it. Well, not unless you’ve an orifice in your hip or something.
You are now as up to date regarding Brexit as anyone is. You are probably thinking that it is all as clear as mud – which is fine. That’s what everybody thinks.
To be honest, it would be more fun watching paint dry or, perhaps, the grass growing. At least you would know with certainty that the paint will dry eventually and, barring a misplaced nuclear missile, the grass will grow.
With Brexit, your guess is as good as mine.
Probably better actually. I’ve drunk a lot of beer.