British Prime Minister Boris Johnson is to truth what myxomatosis is to rabbits.
In the words of my late grandmother Minnie Hanna: “That fella couldn’t lie straight in his bed”.
The strangest part of the recent faux shock from the British public and the right wing Tory press about the extent of Johnson’s estrangement from the truth is that it was well known and factored in when he became Tory leader and won a landslide general election.
Johnson revels in spinning yarns.
A former boss said he wasn’t to be trusted with your wallet or your wife.
And yet this hail-fellow-well-met buffoon took the keys of Downing Street with an electorate in full knowledge that he was untrustworthy.
No one was hoodwinked by Johnson or his administration.
He (and many in his government) are what they always were, a vainglorious cabal of self centred and self absorbed political chancers and connivers.
They have been compared to the Borgias for their common lust for power and addiction to ruthless self promotion.
But the Borgias did chicanery with a touch of elegance.
There is nothing elegant about this Tory government. It’s oxter deep in allegations of dishonesty and double standards.
Johnson is a prime minister in office but without moral authority. As an amoral politician his electoral success owes nothing to moral fortitude.
And as long as he has political authority within the Conservative party Bojo will remain a resident at Number Ten.
But the enchantment between the British electorate and Johnson seems to have lost its spark.
Too many tears have been shed during the pandemic for them to be dried up by the bluff and bluster of an insincere political snake charmer.
Johnson sets the rules for the little people to follow.
Rules for the many but not for the select few whose sense of entitlement allowed them to side step the very rules the little people must follow.
Johnson has surrounded himself with flunkies and lackeys. He has fostered a culture of fecklessness within his inner circle but their careers are wholly dependent on their cackhanded Caesar.
With a few notable exceptions, ministerial seniority seems in inverse proportion to capability.
Johnson has so decimated the talent within the ranks of Conservative party that there is not a clear challenger to his position.
It says something when the Conservative leader of the House of Commons, Jacob Rees-Mogg cannot recall of name of the Tory leader in Wales and dismisses the Scottish Tory leader as “a lightweight”.
Rees-Mogg is symptomatic of the aloofness and out of touch nature of the current administration.
However, Johnson’s Bertie Wooster joke is over. People are fed up being taken in.
Or as Labour’s Chris Bryant put it, “being taken for idiots”.
The newspaper images of the Queen sitting alone at the funeral of her late husband are resonating with an empathetic but angry English public.
The Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer needs to capitalise on that anger and turn it into political action. Johnson may well survive the outcome of any inquiry but he is damaged. But damaged beasts can be even more dangerous.
As with Trump, Johnson will grip onto his office like an unwelcome cleg.
Any notion he can be embarrassed out of government is misguided.
This prime minister is beyond embarrassment. There is little left in his closet of calamities to come out. And even if there was more, it will be met with a shrug of the shoulders and a collective sigh: “Ah sure, that’s just Boris.”
In an attempt to understand Johnson, this writer came across a term ‘pseudologia fantastica’.
I also got re-acquainted with Pinocchio and remembered the Blue Fairy warning: “Give a bad boy enough rope and he’ll soon make a jackass of himself”. Nuff said.
