Brexit Day

So it’s finally arrived. The day we join the list of countries with a glorious past, but no detectably interesting future. Just like Greece, Italy, Turkey, Mongolia, Egypt and a few others. Today’s the day we become a nation of also-rans. A midget.

No longer a member of the biggest peace-keeping, trading and political coalition on the planet.

No longer at the centre of continent-wide decision-making.

No longer acting as a check or balance when over-enthusiastic or self-serving safety or business regulations are created.

No longer able to freely travel, live, work or retire in our neighbouring countries.

No longer the largest and most relevant financial centre in the world.

No longer in control of anything that matters.

We are diminished as a country, diminished in the eyes of the world and have become easy prey to the many stronger and more powerful forces out there.

We are just a carcass, our bones ready to be picked clean by the flocks of surrounding vultures.

Sold into servitude by a corrupt élite interested only in their personal enrichment who were enabled by millions of unthinking drones who without question believed the carefully crafted and targeted lies they were told because of the perfect match with their own prejudices and biases. Death by database.

It shouldn’t be surprising, and it isn’t.

A nation that claims to love its NHS but isn’t willing to pay the tax to properly support it is never going to work.

A nation whose peak cultural entertainment is watching I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here, gawking at the freaks on Love Island or avidly consuming anything with Ant & Dec, Simon Cowell or David fucking Walliams in it is never going to work.

A nation that totally relies on EU grants to fund development in regions its own government completely ignores but then those regions vote to cut off that funding is never going to work.

A nation that has an institution as rare and valuable as the BBC but allows the competition to threaten terrified politicians to the point that its very existence is now being questioned is never going to work.

A nation that threw the best-ever party for the world in 2012 but was a global laughing stock less than eight years later is never going to work.

A nation so collectively lacking in aspiration, confidence and ambition that its lowest common denominator has now become its highest attainable achievement is never, ever, ever, going to work.

So now that is us. A tired, washed-up, former colonial bully, brought to its knees by generations of benefit addiction, over-entitlement, selfishness, greed, appalling parenting and chronic under-education. A country full of people who know their rights but are oblivious even to the existence of the rights of others.

A key element in any Shakespearean tragedy is the inevitability of that tragedy. Seeing all the way through what is going to happen, but being unable or unwilling to change that outcome.

Brexit is just that. A Shakespearean tragedy. Despite millions of our voices raised in warning, it happens anyway.

The cliff is behind us and it’s too late for the lemmings to turn. We are just along for the ride now and, like a meteorite, our descent will be brief and fiery and soon forgotten by everyone else as we rapidly fade to irrelevance.

Since I have no expectation of any favourable future for this country – we are neither as important nor impressive as we think we are – I’m pulling up a deckchair, getting a cold beer and, secure in the knowledge that I and people like me will be on the right side of history, I am going to calmly watch as it all goes up in flames.