Yesterday the House of Commons voted on Prime Minister Theresa May’s Brexit deal, and overwhelmingly rejected it. What will happen next is not yet clear.
Our English correspondent Seneca III has some thoughts on the subject.
End of Days?
by Seneca III
And so, they are doing it, and are taking the first steps to herd We the People of the UK down the road to perdition. There is no surprise here, because this parliament is the most wretched collection of mendacious self-servers, unconvicted criminals, freeloaders, sexual deviants and morally destitute poseurs assembled in the Palace of Westminster since 1653, and it is no longer material which way or how they vote, abstain, waffle, equivocate, and delay.
For over two years, month after month, day after day they have stood and pontificated, wallowing righteously in a sea of vacuous platitudes and imagined threats whilst dragging the House and the nation into a Slough of Despond deeper than Bunyan himself could have imagined. Most of them cannot even deliver a coherent speech without the use of written texts, and even then the result of their verbal incontinence is painful to the eye and ear of those who have steeled themselves to watch and listen.
History will record them as unfit for any purpose other than their own enrichment and the survival of themselves and their comrades in the Globalist International; they are totally without virtue and ridden with vice — my old dog has more integrity and loyalty than they, even though he also is an inveterate bum sniffer and leg lifter who urinates on everything contrary to his own world view.
Indeed, few of this sordid clan could lie straight on the Rack, never mind present as anything resembling pillars of rectitude. Betrayal is their watchword, and the adulation of their acolytes and (EU) paymasters their bread of life. Moreover, as May & Co signed us up to the UN Migration Pact, then this whole Brexit debacle, however it turns out, will be of no long-term consequence, as global Muslim psychopaths together with feral sub-Saharan primitives will soon flood in to try to finish us off once and for all.
It is now glaringly obvious that We the People are of no consequence to those we have elected to represent us, simply irritants to be ignored after each election day. Thus those who govern are no longer of consequence to us, either, so let us be done with the lot of them and start again no matter how difficult and painful that may be. It will be because there is no solution left to us via the ballot box, and the final resolution will have to be found in the fog and perhaps violent turmoil of their passing.
RIP British parliamentary democracy. In a fit of collective greed and madness it suicided in January 2019. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust it will be, because that is all it became fit for in the end, and a re-set is what we must now initiate.
In closing, I offer us all a gentle allegory from: The Sunlight on the Garden by Louis MacNeice, first and last stanzas. Make what you will of it, for the future must now belong to you. But first you must seize it.
The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold;
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon…
… And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.
— Seneca III, Middle England, Year Zero.
For links to previous essays by Seneca III, see the Seneca III Archives.