Cor blimey. I can normally keep half an eye on the world of our UK politics whilst getting on with my real life. Normally politics slumbers and shuffles onward at a snail’s pace. Indeed, even up to the referendum day it was only shuffling forward in comparative terms.
Then suddenly the voting was over and those who wanted to be free had just about won. Just about.
The celebration for the new found and exciting future we faced was short lived. Not just because the angry losers were throwing their toys out of the pram, holding their breath until they turned blue, and badly abusing those who had voted to leave. Nor was it because wee Jimmy Krankie, the boss of Scotland, was gleefully launching the latest of her Scottish independence bids. The last Scottish independence bid failed at the will of the people who voted to remain part of the UK, but their will is unimportant to the SNP. A bit like the prevailing will of the people of the UK as a whole to leave the EU is irrelevant to the whingers that wanted to remain. Just like the Scottish question, they want the referendum re-run and re-run until the vote goes their way too.
Anyway, the celebrations were short lived because the vote to leave triggered a non-stop exhaustive series of events across both major political parties which swapped and changed people’s understanding of politics by the day. Well, by the hour. Sometimes, by the minute.
Just keeping up with wtf was going on was tiring. Let alone trying to formulate an opinion on each new episode of the soap.
So, forgetting any pre-voting Brexit overload, the brilliant result didn’t give any rest or reassurance with Cameron resigning, Boris Johnson being shafted, Corbyn leading the Momentum takeover of the old Labour party, Nigel Farage re-resigning, and the Scots thinking their chance for freedom was nigh. It was all moving too fast.
Even the commentators on TV and radio seemed punch drunk with it all.
Now, please stop all this stuff. It’s exhausting. I need a rest.