Let’s call a spade a spade: prime minister “Johnson’s” paternal grandfather was Osman Kemal, a Turk.  In my book that makes him – no matter what he may care to call himself – Alexander Kemal.  Rather more unsavoury material lingers in the familial arbor, but I won’t go into it now.   Suffice to say, for those readers who think I am being a trifle unfair, and that a man is not responsible for his ancestry – far less the behaviour – of his grandparents: Osman Kemal was, by all accounts, a drunken lay-about – bear in mind that the one thing he did do was change his name: one Wilfrid Johnson emerged from the chrysalis that had been Osman Kemal.  And what name has our own Alexander Kemal chosen for his latest sprog? Wilfrid.  I’ll say no more.

I will, however, point out that Mr Kemal’s widely acknowledged penchant for a flutter, almost invariably involves somebody else putting up the stakes.  Brexit being the obvious example: he became PM, we stand to have our economy and international reputation trashed.  “It’ll be all right. Be brave,” he exhorts us even while rushing to hide himself in a ‘fridge, or wherever it is he’s cowering now: for one thing is sure, by comparison in terms of  leadership,  the captain of the Mary Celeste can be seen stomping the decks to this day.  “Kemal the invisible,” would be an entirely appropriate soubriquet.

Mr Kemal’s corrosive effects,  and there have been many,  have included an exhortation to the public to disregard, and deride the advice of experts, be they doctors, diplomats or economists.  “We can make up our own minds,” he assures us,  before going on to explain the short term impact of an issue and leaving the long term to go hang.  He always offers what is easy, now. Hence the changes in policy for dealing with the virus, hence the lies on the Brexit bus: forget the future, tell Brussels we’ll take charge of our own future; stay at home, eat out, lock down, wear masks or don’t, expect a vaccine.   Die.  His policy advice is exactly that of the turkey farmer to his brainless birds: “eat up, there’ll be another lovely meal tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow… and at Christmas.  Except that you’ll provide it.”

One of the many punts in which Mr Kemal has indulged himself – and us –  is, of course, rolling out across the Pond.  A US-UK trade agreement would, he assured us, be quick, simple and favourable.  It wouldn’t, and its likelihood of happening any time soon on terms Mr Kemal desires – assuming he gives a toss, which I doubt – hangs on the result of the US election.  Donald Duck may be anxious to tear down the EU and all who trade with it, Democrat Joe isn’t.

So Mr Kemal has positioned us nicely: hope and pray, for the sake of the world, that Presidential election goes one way, and if it does, stand by for further economic hardship and a reduction of our “soft power.”  Very clever, very cunning.  Put it another way, whatever the result, the UK has about as much to gain as a turkey voting for Christmas.

Give that man a chlorinated turkey sandwich.