Home Music intervention Operation Save Big Dog intensifies the day after the death of Boris music | Jean Crace

Operation Save Big Dog intensifies the day after the death of Boris music | Jean Crace


Oew minutes after the greased piglet turned out to be rather less slippery than its supporters had expected, Operation Save Big Dog kicked into overdrive, with loyal MPs sticking their faces in front of any passing television cameras. The first was Nadhim Zahawi. “There was a ballot,” he said. Nothing escapes him. “Fifty plus one is a majority and Boris has done much better than that.” Uh, absolutely. If by better you mean worse than Margaret Thatcher and Theresa May, both of whom were effectively finished as Prime Minister.

The education secretary insisted. Struggling to explain the scale of joy that would be felt around the world at Boris Johnson’s miraculous triumph, Zahawi landed on Ukraine. Thousands of people who had taken cover from Russian airstrikes in the Donbass would take to the streets to cheer the Convict. Additionally, Volodymyr Zelenskiy would offer prayers for Johnson’s temporary salvation. As at the right time, the Ukrainian president did indeed tweet his joy. He takes his job as Boris’ therapist very seriously. It will be 80 guineas and two leader tanks for this intervention.

James Cleverly also chimed in, again emphasizing the fallibility of nominative determinism. It was a clear victory for the Convict, he insisted. And there was no other person in the party who could have won even 60% of the vote. Because the rest of the firm – including him – was completely desperate and there wasn’t a single one who could be trusted to get dressed in the morning. Not that the convict can do that either, judging by his condition. Every day it looks more and more abandoned. And even if there was a minister capable of rivaling him, the majority of backbenchers were just a bunch of congenitally disloyal snakes. It was not the best advertisement for the Conservative Party.

On the contrary, the backbenchers were even more disturbed. Peter Bone, who had plotted against the Maybot and declared her doomed after her vote of no confidence, was now openly saying that Boris – smaller majority and all – had proven he was a winner and should be left alone. It was not for dissenting MPs to replace a Prime Minister, except when it suited them. In his defense, his synapses only connect at random intervals, so it may take him a while to spot the contradiction.

Adam Holloway insisted it was all the fault of the BBC for showing photos of the convict looking like Hannibal Lecter. Anthony Hopkins could sue for this. Lecter looked much better than Johnson right now. The eyes are barely open, the legs only work from memory, the skin is parched and pale, and the toddler’s haircut is falling apart.

You could almost suspect that Johnson had taken coke after his own sniffle-filled TV clip. But the reality is that it’s not the Class A drugs that make Boris so hopelessly inconsistent. He emphasizes this state through his natural sociopathic narcissism. It’s a rarity now if he happens to finish a sentence. Accurately transcribe what he says and you get the babbling of a three-year-old.

At least Michael Fabricator will never die wondering why he was never promoted to a serious position. Now think of some of the quarterbacks — bow Suella Braverman and Oliver Dowden — who have entered the cabinet, and you begin to get a glimpse of just how jaw-dropping Micky Fab is. Something he seems determined to prove on a daily basis. His take was that he expected the Convict to do even worse, so that was a huge result. Uh. Not sure that’s quite the line.

Bob Seely was refreshingly frank and pragmatic. He didn’t like Boris very much. Never had, never would. But No. 10 had made him a cash offer for his Isle of Wight constituency which he couldn’t refuse. He had therefore voted for Johnson. And would continue to do so as long as the dosh kept coming. The relationship was entirely transactional and Seely couldn’t have been happier.

The place of honor for the idiot of the idiot in the conservative wankocracy went to Brendan Clarke-Smith. He argued he was sick of seeing people cocking their Covid tragedies to pop Johnson. The pandemic was now over and everyone should be quiet about their losses – hadn’t the point of Brexit been to forge a new generation of British stiff upper lips? – and continue. So your mother is dead? Damn big deal. Everyone has to croak for a while. So why not just be happy for Boris instead of continuing to break the law?

Cabinet ministers, such as Liz Truss, Michael Gove and Rishi Sunak, were instead more neutral in their support. If one of them had imagination, wit and talent, he would seek to relieve the convict. But they’re all hopeless, so they did the bare minimum, hoping someone else would be the first to stab Boris. No one did, so they were forced to sit like tailors’ dummies while Johnson made a TV clip – just as tone-deaf as his appeal to Tory MPs the day before – at the start of the cabinet meeting.

The day after Boris’ music died, only four Tory backbenchers were bothered to attend a debate on standards in public life. Of course, the others must have felt they had done enough. Labour’s Angela Rayner started with a simple plea. Johnson had done his best to undermine the integrity of his office and should not be allowed to get away with watering down the ministerial code.

You might have thought it was a relatively uncontroversial proposition, but Michael Ellis begged you to disagree. So he always does. That’s the point of it. It’s the Convict’s go-to dogbody for cleaning up his shit. Keeper of the King’s Stools.

Ellis was oozing and ahhed, still so ‘umbly’. It’s not that Boris wanted to weaken the ministerial code. He wanted to make him stronger by making him weaker. Schrodinger’s code. You just couldn’t expect someone as law-abiding as Johnson to obey the law. There should be some leeway for Boris to do whatever he wanted and decide if he had broken the law. And this also applied to his comrades. What a shame to have to fire someone he loved.

Just another sordid day in Westminster.