The generosity of the European Parliament at the end of Wednesday’s debate on the UK Withdrawal Agreement was a stark contrast to the mean spirited nastiness of the Brexit MEPs and it was embarrassing to watch that sad parade of Pooters waving their little union jacks and walking out after the chair had turned off the microphone.
The word “hate” was used and it contrasted strongly with the later singing of Auld Lang Syne by the international gathering, which was impressive after that last insult by the Brexit extremists. But that’s all quite normal now in the changed UK landscape where truth no longer matters and experts are people who have nothing to contribute.
We will keep the flag flying here in El Parral. If only to show that there are some British who respect the country they live in and its proud commitment to Europe.
So we have reached the end of the road as UK citizens in the EU. There is nothing left to do now except gain citizenship of a different country, a process already well advanced for me. The second exam for Spanish citizenship is on 14 February – exactly two weeks from now – the Dele A2 language exam; and I am encouraged by the news from Nicky down south, regarding the speed of her nationality processing. (See comment in the last blogpost.) The donkeys have taken it all quite well: they were rather hoping that their Peasant could reverse Brexit. Particularly when a group called Led By Donkeys joined the fray. But it was not to be.
I have been reading an old favourite book again. I chanced upon a copy of Sebastian Faulks’ great novel about the First World War in a secondhand bookshop a couple of weeks ago. Birdsong is a brutal reminder of the slaughter of the Somme and Ypres in 1916 and 1917. I used to take school groups to the Somme and even spent Christmas in a trench alone, just to experience the winter weather, while teaching WW1 poetry.
Re-reading Birdsong coincides with watching Sam Mendes’ extraordinary film 1917. Both the exhausting Faulks novel and that frighteningly human film reminded me that those slaughtered men were so young! And all I could think of was the Brexit tragedy of 2020. The UK is simply turning its back on a European project designed to bring nations together and avoid the circumstances that might produce another slaughter.
In my view there was only ever one morally correct side in the Brexit battle. We lost that battle but we never lost the moral high ground: as witnessed by the nasty people who walked out of the EU Parliament waving their silly Union Jacks on Wednesday. They belong to the tradition of English piracy that brought out the worst in the English during the time of imperial expansion in the 16th century. The Spanish have still not forgotten. The English are now once more referred to as “piratas” when the crude two-fingered salute of Brexit produces a well-deserved rude response from the Spanish. You have to see their point. Brexit is the last word in international piracy and the barbarians are now running Number 10.
So that’s it. Not much else to say, is there? The UK can go its own way now, unopposed by those of us millions who marched through London’s streets but who now count for nothing. We lost. End of story. The insults of the mouthy Brexiters continue.
“You lost. Get over it.”
We will get over it. Quickly. And when the country is ruined, be sure the cry will go up soon enough, that the failure of Brexit was due to that other half of the country who didn’t believe in unicorns. They didn’t have enough faith. And that is why the UK became a failed state…
Cue Aitana dressed as unicorn, for one last time! Bye bye Brexit.