Leaving by the front door

Ever since the unseemly struggle for power when the present government were busy knifing each other in the back in the hope they would attain the highest position in the land by doing so, Boris has been compelled to accept people involved in the skulduggery as close colleagues and advisors.

Thanks to his girlfriend successfully plotting to evict his chief advisor from Number 10, Dominic Cummings is now outside the tent, pissing in. I would not want that poisonous alien from another planet on my case.

Cummings hypnotised Boris into trusting him and only him, and now he is paying the price for ignoring all his other, less Machiavellian advisors and civil servants such as the ones who should have been present when he was making arrangements to redecorate his already opulent flat in Downing Street, or having text message conversations with Sir James Dyson, who was merely trying to protect his employees from being taxed twice should they be uprooted from Singapore to work on ventilators for the crisis. I have had experience of how James Dyson operates and know that he likes to get things done as quickly as possible with the least red-tape as possible. 

I really felt for the poor woman who was thrown onto Radio 4 this morning to deal with all the awkward questions which Boris himself could not be trusted to answer. She kept saying things like, 'As I understand it...' and 'I was not there when this this was supposed to have been said, but I know and trust Boris Johnson...' etc. etc. 

Now we are going to go through weeks or months of Kier Starmer assisting Dominic Cummings by bringing up the old Tory sleaze accusations, rather than allowing them to do what they were (or were not) elected to do, which is to try and mitigate some of the damage caused by not allowing bodies to pile up in the streets as they are in Delhi right now.

P.S. Have you seen the latest cover of Private Eye magazine? It's a good one.