Losers – arn’t we all?

Right now talking doesn’t help.
Brexit Schmexit, none of it matters as long as our children weep.
Etonian bluster has won the day.
Steve Bannon altering the wrong to make it Righter.
Conspiracy theories about who paid whom to do whatever they did to keep the status quo chugging along abound. Who knows what’s true any more?
Let’s blame Karl Marx or John Lennon or Jesus Christ. Let’s blame those far-left leaning terrorists who have the audacity to care.
Peoples lives are in tatters and yet they cast their votes for those who tore down their houses and stripped them of their dignity.
Right now talking doesn’t help – for ears are closed and eyes tight shut.
Play the lottery and hope.
Buy a scratch card and wish.
Bet on Boris and you’ll win a life time of coupons, but know you will never have his life.
In the land of the blind the one eyed man is king. Hurrah for hypocrisy, bravo for untruths, encore encore as the Emperor walks naked through the corridors of power whilst the duped cheer at his new clothes.
Misinformation has won. Smug jocularity has seduced those with nothing to believe in the empty promises from those who have everything.
In 1930 the popular song ‘The Best Things in Life are Free’ rose in the hit parade, as poverty and unemployment gripped a nation. The songsters wrote ditties to lift the spirits of the underlings. I await a 21st Century anthem that is an ode to the joy of consumption and equity release.
But right now I dont want to talk. I need to ponder and ruminate as I, like millions of others, await the fall out from what has now become a real class war. Those who can and those who can’t. Those who have and those who haven’t. Those who want from those who withhold. Those who hoard and those who waste. I await the continuing polka of the Brexit jig, as the rich get happier and the poor get fucked.
Tonight I am in mourning – the tactical voting experiment failed. The Mail and The Express, The Sun and The Telegraph bask in the glory of victory, I am reminded that the grass in Chernobyl grew back but the land is still toxic. Change takes time, apart from death its the only absolute in life, nothing stays the same. So as custodians of our frail planet we must believe that The Conservative Party will conserve, but if they don’t a hefty kick into the groin of those inglorious bastards is prescribed. Another election? I hear you scream.
What is the alternative? Barricades, yellow vests, tear gas, sit ins, hold ups? What is the alternative?
So I repeat, no more talking a period of quiet reflection is in order, that and a revolution.