22 SEPTEMBER: All going splendidly. A few people turned up to hear the boss today. Well, no one important, but at least it wasn’t all empty seats! (I told her Friday matinees weren’t the best idea, but you know her. She always knows best.)
The old dear cackled on a bit in her usual way, and frankly, I dropped off for a bit as you do after a good luncheon. But I’m sure she socked it to Johnny Foreigner. Told them we’d stick around for longer. Ha ha. That made them sit up. Well, those that were awake, anyway.
But we’re Brits. We’ve never felt at home with all these people speaking foreign at us and their foreign courts and, I mean look at the democratic deficit. Why, it’s a European dictatorship. No. The majority of decent hardworking British families up and down the country are jolly glad we’re putting these foreigners in their place at last.
Mark my words, they’ll run after us begging for trades deals, as will the rest of the world. And we’ll return to our rightful place at the head of the list of senior and important countries leading the world forward under Bor… I mean Theresa.
Er, we just need time, and Liam needs to get his royal yacht built… but once we’re up and running, nothing will stop us.
Leaving you some pics I’ve taken or been sent on my journeys around the world to save you decent British people from this European dictatorship.
All the best
It’s always brought a smile to my face when British Prime Minister after British Prime Minister has trotted around the world in a self-important manner spouting off about democracy.
Surely, Britain is one of the least truly democratic countries in the West, I thought.
After all, we have an unelected head of state whom we were always told was ceremonial and had no powers at all. It turns out that in truth not only does she and her immediate family have immense influence, she and her eldest son, have real powers which they use to have laws changed.
They also have the use of the Privy Council, which can make declarations in the name of Her Majesty. These are the law with no scrutiny allowed.
Next, the government can use Statutory Instruments, also known as SIs, a form of legislation which allows the provisions of an Act of Parliament to be subsequently brought into force or altered without Parliament having to pass a new Act. They are also referred to as secondary, delegated or subordinate legislation.
Then there is the House of Lords, the second largest legislative chamber in the world (after the National People’s Congress of China… a country of 1.4 billion people). It comprises firstly of 90 hereditary peers, self-selected by the Earls, Viscounts, Marquesses, and Dukes (which we still have in this bastion of democracy). The rest of us are excluded from voting on who these people should be (and once elected by their peers they can remain there until death). Only other hereditary aristocrats have a vote.
A further two hereditaries sit as of right, because of positions they historically hold in the royal household. (It’s already beginning to sound like something dreamt up for an 18th-century comic opera, isn’t it?)
Next in this massive house, are archbishops and bishops of the established church of the state religion. Listen to that: state religion! Finally, there is a rag bag of who knows how many ex-ministers and failed politicians, rich people who have given money to one of the three main parties… and a few oddballs the reason for whose presence can only be wondered at.
Then there is the supposedly democratic part of governance. The Commons, elected by a ridiculous first past the post system which can give an absolute majority on a vote of around 35%, and in which two-thirds of the seats never change hands. And this all underpinned by a party whipping system designed to keep most MPs very firmly on message.
Under this prime minister, we have seen some rather odd and disturbing developments which further undermine the feeble democracy that we have.
Ironically they have come about in the wake of Brexit, which was supposed to return power to parliament from supposedly undemocratic EU institutions, like the council of ministers (comprising of elected ministers from the member states) or the European parliament, elected on a proportional representation system.
The first happened when our ridiculously inept prime minister called a general election to prove that she was strong and stable, expecting to win a thumping majority, and in fact lost the small majority she had inherited from David Cameron. Looking more than a little ridiculous she reached out to someone even more ridiculous: the ex-First Minister of Northern Ireland and leader of the DUP, currently under investigation for the mishandling of a large sum of public money, Arlene Foster.
The DUP agreed to use its 10 members to back the prime minister in certain matters (because of EVEL, Irish MPs cannot vote on any legislation that is England only) in return for £1.5 billion. Pretty much a bribe, using public money…our money!
Next, May decided to “fix” the committee system so that, despite not having a majority in parliament, the Tories would have a majority of members on every important committee in parliament. (Somewhat ridiculously they have more members than any other party on the Scottish Affairs Committee)
Finally, May has brought in and had passed in the Commons, a Bill that will give ministers the right to alter the law without any reference to parliament. The powers have been nick-named Henry VIII powers, after England’s most authoritarian monarch, but many commentators feel that they resemble much more closely The Enabling Act (1933), which allowed Hitler to bypass the Reichstag and rule by ministerial (his) power.
It is a dangerous road to take, and as I said, all the more ironic because, apart from xenophobia, it seems to me that the biggest cries from the popular press were that British laws should be made exclusively by British representatives in a British fashion in Britain, mindful of Great British values (whatever they are). And of course that we keep being told that we MUST respect the British people who voted for Brexit.
Ho hum, funny old world.
On Munguin’s Republic, we are not of the type that thinks Scotland is perfect. Far from it.
We don’t get teary eyed about hills and glens and the bonnie purple heather. We love it, but there are bonnie hills and glens all over the world and yes, there’s even heather.
We don’t take the attitude that Scots are better, or friendlier, nicer, kinder, better looking or anything else, than other folk. We’ve travelled a bit and we know that is just nonsesnse. There are lovely people, and awful ones, the world over. From Albania (we remember the little boy who gave us a hand -painted scene on a piece of wood and refused to take anything for it) to Zambia (we remember the guy who we helped to get into work and who came around after his first pay day with a massive box of biscuits).
But there’s something comforting in the knowledge that our government is trying to maintain good relations and as close ties as Westminster will let us with the rest of our continent, while the government in Westminster seems determined to pull the UK away into desperate isolation.
We’re content that while they sell weapons to whatever terrorist government will buy them, apparently no questions asked, and no eyes raised at the number of civilian and child casualties, and they rush to war to prove that they are important and punch above their weight, we both metaphorically, and literally, build bridges.
Munguin looks forward to driving over the bridge in the very near future.
Munguin, on hearing of the national disaster that is the silencing of Big Ben for FOUR years, by these dreadful Health and Safety people from the EU, who appear to be worried about deafness in working people (tish tosh), decided that to cheer himself up, it was time that he, like Theresa May, did something plain bad…
Now if his biographer asks him to recount a time when he was really naughty, he will be able to do so without a word of a lie.
So off to the country and to fields of corn, whereupon he ran through the crop, causing the farmers to be very displeased.
Obviously, there are no photographs of him actually doing this as that would count as evidence and he would hate the Fuzz to come knocking at his door. But you can take my word for it. Devastation was caused.
Eat yer heart out Tessy!
Steve Bell in the Guardian. Thanks to “BSJAlba” for bringing them to my attention.