I’m indebted to a gentleman from Swansea for the title of this piece, but I’d like to riff on it a little.
There was always a touch of Harry Flashman about David Cameron’s oily swagger, and there’s definitely an air of head-prefect about Theresa May. But it’s more than that. The loudest vocalists in the Leave campaign – not just Nigel Farage, but unofficial cheerleaders like Toby Young and Julia Hartley Brewer – kept reminding me of those people who made it their mission to make life insufferable in the classroom. Life’s terminal ‘winners’ who were never content to quietly enjoy life in the comfy chair, but instead strove to make life as unpleasant as possible for everyone else.
The fact that Farage coached Donald Trump really put the tin hat on it all, but it’s not a phenomenon limited to politicians. Truly loathsome and worthless men like Kelvin MacKenzie are STILL somehow in charge of everything, ever ready to stick the world’s head down the nearest toilet bowl.
You see it in their attitude to immigrants, who must constantly be viewed with suspicion like newly-arrived first-formers. You see it in their attitude to benefit claimants, who they see as malingerers continually faking notes from their mum. You see it in their obsession with ‘free speech’, a zeal which disappears as soon as anyone else stands up to them. These are people who view the planet as one big academy with them as the milk monitors – they constantly bang on about people ‘contributing’ to the country, but they contribute absolutely nothing themselves except bellowing and misery.
Will the home-time bell ever ring for these people, I wonder? Probably not. It’ll take more than Mr Baxter from Grange Hill saying ‘No, sir’ to save us from this mob.