At time of writing, I am bored with being told that Boris Johnson’s government is on the brink of collapse. It’s been talked about constantly for weeks. The “senior” Tory backbenchers, the thrusting new “red wall” backbenchers, the “former ministers”, the “ex-chief whips” – I’ve lost count – all of them pissed off, not taking any more of this shit, saying he’s got to resign, he’s lost confidence, it’s over, I never liked him, his wife’s a bitch, etc.
They’ve all been doing their letters, or thinking about doing their letters, to the 1922 Committee. No one knows quite how many letters there are – maybe they haven’t all been posted. Is it 30? It could be 40! It needs to be 54. David Davis even did the “In the name of God, go” bit in the Commons. Surely that’s the cue? He must be feeling embarrassed now, like he’s failed to get a Mexican wave going. Cromwell used that speech to usher in martial law, Leo Amery’s quoting it got rid of Chamberlain within a couple of days, but Johnson just ignored it and “got on with the job” of slandering the leader of the opposition and singing disco hits to his new director of communications.
