On Thursday night, Theresa May was stood up by her strong mandate and had to make her lonely way home alone. “Being Prime Minister is bloody difficult,” said May next morning from Conservative Central Office. “Judge me on my record.”
May decided to press ahead with a hard Brexit after campaigning for the Remain team. That reversal, and the many others over the past year, must have been bloody difficult.
Calling a snap election after promising not to (Brownies’ honour), despite the Biblical injunction not to bear false witness, is bloody difficult.
Amending policy on the hoof after the original manifesto pledge caused derision is bloody difficult.
Pretending not to lose face after losing face in spectacular fashion, after negative campaigning was negated by moderate, positive policies, is bloody difficult too.
May has cut an increasingly desperate figure as the weeks have worn on, becoming less like a Dalek and more like a Paranoid Android. Elections: loathe them or ignore them, you can’t like them. Her tired “strong and stable” mantra sounds like her needle is stuck. Change the record, Theresa.
Now May is getting into bed with terrorists in order to counter the terrorist threat; sleeping with Unionists to destroy the European Union. Clearly, murdering Catholics is the acceptable face of terrorism. Keeping this chaotic coalition viable while coping with the high degree of irony is surely going to be a bloody difficult job, that will require delicate negotiating skills and a degree of compromise. How many bloody difficult girls’ jobs will it take?
Meanwhile the rest of the EU and a large proportion of the British public is having a bloody difficult job keeping a straight face.
