Thursday, 23 June 2016

Not everyone who voted Brexit is a racist...

I got incredibly emotional in the polling station today. I found myself standing in the queue wondering who was going to do the right thing. I have never felt so passionately about casting my vote - and that includes my first ever general election. It was 1997, and bizarrely I was putting an X against my partner's name who went on to have the defining New Labour victory of the night! That was five years before Nathan came on the scene!

As I carefully drew my X next to the box which said "stay", I wondered what this ludicrous referendum has cost our nation. People have literally torn each other apart on the streets. A worrying tide of xenophobia has swept across our country. Families have rowed. People are settling old scores. And the awful thing is that none of us truly understand the implications of what we're doing. It's like a bizarre lottery, where I suspect no one will win a prize. I personally have my eye on just one prize. And that prize is simple. I want my country back. I want it back from those right wing bastards. I want to live in an inclusive country where fascists keep their nasty little paranoid conspiracy-laden thoughts to themselves. Of course not all of those who vote to come out of Europe are racists, but all racists will vote to come out of Europe. And that should be the warning sign for decent people.

I made the mistake of feeding the trolls on Facebook this morning. I haven't done a great deal of arm-to-arm combat online but a good friend of mine from back home posted a comment about being in two minds about how to vote, and loads of people were predictably talking utter nonsense, including one woman who said "I'm for out! I can remember the days before we joined and as far as I am concerned...they were great!" to which I responded: "Those were the days of the 3 day week, when they called us the poor man of Europe." To which someone else responded, sarcastically, "Oh yeah we have such a bad history - our commonwealth covered half the world. Did Brussels guide us then? NO."

What I've always failed to understand is why these people seem to think Britain would make better decisions if it were governing itself. Frankly, the only reason I can see for coming out of Europe is to stop that twat Nigel Farage from having any form of a say. The bottom line is that I don't think Britain CAN govern itself until our political parties start to represent the shift which has happened in the way people think. Until we acknowledge that the old left vs right, rich vs poor model is broken, our major parties will be unable to unify behind a single ideology.

My brother Tim writes that he spoke to an old lady handing out "stay" fliers at Piccadilly station today, whom he felt he wanted to hug because she radiated such warmth and kindness. She apparently said that the young and the very old were the most positive about Europe: "the very old remember the war and the hardships and the young generally seem more in touch with a modern world." It is, apparently, mainly he 65-75 year olds who "reacted less positively." Tim says that he could tell by the tone of her voice and the look in her eye what she meant by "less positively." And I really have to say I'm not surprised. These baby boomers have really had it all. Council houses, good national health, holidays in the sun, no national service, decent pensions. Why do they care what the younger generation are left with? They'll be alright, Jack.

The weather has been shitty all day. It's worth remembering that the UKIP turds said that gay marriage would lead to devastating floods as an indication of the wrath of God. You may remember that the weather was actually beautiful without a drop of rain for the four weeks running up to the big day, and the four weeks following. God is obviously not so sure about the referendum, and showed his wrath with belting thunderstorms through the night. The wonderful head of NYMT's offices have been flooded at Westminster Under School and scores of precious instruments have been water damaged. Seeing images of guitars and harpsichords warped and buckling was utterly heart-breaking. Music staff were pathetically trying to wash the mud away.

This evening, as the skies turned blue again, a cloud formed above us which looked like the United Kingdom sailing away from a much larger cloud which we thought might have been Europe. As it drifted away, it disintegrated into nothingness. A little pictorial gift from the heavens if anyone needed anything spelling out.

If you voted Brexit. Keep that sordid little secret to yourself, eh?


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