It’s been another “exciting” stretch for Boris Johnson’s government — but then Boris Johnson’s government doesn’t “do” boring, dependable, or reliable. That’s not the deal. Johnson was elected on the understanding that he would turn British politics into a massive plot device for the putative TV show in his head, wherein everything and everyone — mistresses, wives, friends, children, colleagues, threatening to have a journalist beaten up, Garden Bridges, Irish Sea Bridges, bullying ministers, Owen Paterson, PPE, suitcases of wine, gold wallpaper, airlifted Afghan cats and dogs, Ukrainian visas — are just topics thrown at him to improv excuses about for ten minutes before the next thing comes along; because that appears to be his primary psychological kink. Getting away with stuff by the skin of his teeth.
He runs his life like it’s basically Whose Line Is It Anyway? in 1989 and he’s waiting for Clive Anderson to throw him another prop. It’s all so unnecessarily exhausting. As is so often the case, I simply marvel at another powerful bullshitter spending so much more time and effort trying to cover up his mistakes than it would have taken to have just simply. Done. The. Job. Properly.
