Mervyn King predicted before the election that whichever party ended up winning would have to impose such savage cuts that it wouldn’t return to office for a generation. If he’s right, yesterday’s events could prove a double blessing for Labour: both of its competitors may end up shafted. It certainly won’t be one for Britain, or for the already faltering European project which offers the only, if increasingly faint, hope of a secure future for our grandchildren.
I read recently that an Italian baby survived for two days after being aborted. That’s nothing: a British fœtus has survived for almost 50 years and - God help us - has just been appointed foreign secretary. The poisonous abortion, pictured above with puppet-master Ashcroft, is more than the token pleb in the posh-boys’ government. Nor is the worst thing about him the permanent chuckle in his voice which makes you want to hit him. It’s his ghastly Little Englanderism. An ‘independent’ Britain doesn’t have the clout to stand up to globalised business; a federal Europe might. Who forced telecom companies to bring down mobile phone roaming charges? The EU. Who forced Ryan Air to compensate passengers stranded by the ash-cloud? The EU. Who are the principal beneficiaries: Sun and Daily Mail readers or international businessmen travelling on expenses? It’s a no-brainer really. Or would be if the fœtus and his friends didn’t bang the patriotic drum - aptly described by Dr Johnson as ‘the last refuge of a scoundrel’ - to drown out the truth.
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