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| Some day my Jez will come |
Only one wave of the wand is enough to convince twenty-seven EU nations to give Britain the same benefits as members, without all the boring hassle of having to stay in the union or accept any sort of obligation towards it. That’s despite the EU saying repeatedly and firmly that they never would concede so much.
Pouf! One wave and all those tiresome obstacles just melt away.
A second wave of the wand and, lo and behold, here’s £250bn to fund the most exciting, radical and transformative programme of social change Britain has ever seen. All being brought in by a blessed government, elected because having done better than the polls last time round (and lost), Jeremy’s obviously going to do better than the polls next time (and maybe do something that viewed in the right light looks a bit like winning).
It must be a fabulous place to live. Which, no doubt, is why there are so many Corbynistas living there.
Of course, it isn’t always easy. There are sometimes stresses when reality unpleasantly impinges on the inhabitants. But that doesn’t depress them for long. A glance at a photo of the blessed visage is usually enough, or repetition for as long as it takes of the sutra, J-C-4-P-M. If necessary, with the word ‘hashtag’ in front of it.
Sadly, I’m an incurable addict to reality. I’m not enchanted by the prospect of the economic abyss towards which Britain seems to be heading next March. And I look with never-diminishing astonishment at polls that show that Labour is level-pegging, or behind, the least popular government in my lifetime. And mine has not been a short lifetime. It would be so comforting to make the leap into faith. But I just can’t bring myself to. It’s probably a curmudgeonly habit cultivated ever since I stopped believing in Father Christmas.
Still, that doesn’t stop me envying the Corbynistas their ecstasy in living in Cloud Corbyn Land. It’s got to be nice.
What with all that lovely weather and all.
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