Rumour has it the Chancellor is considering the reintroduction of his scheme that he used last summer to lure people into bars and restaurants, which was accountable for anything up to 17,000 additional deaths.

But, a re-brand is due (and, uniquely, this nugget of consultancy is offered free, gratis and for nothing).  It is to be called “Drop In Please, & Pass On,” or DIPPO for short

Alert readers will, of course, be aware that Johnson has come up with a wheeze to “save the Union.”  He plans to send Prince Edward – or “Bonnie Prince Ted,” as he’s known to intimates – to Caledonia.  There the personal magnetism of the braw young laddie will attract Lowlander and Highlander alike,  and drain the poison of the SNP.     God bless the Union, God bless Prince Ted and God bless Johnson,  I don’t think.

Anyway, that reminds me it’s high time we had a competition.   Let us see who is the first reader to spot  Bonnie Prince Ted, who is hidden away in our banner (hint: he might just be in disguise):

I saw this telling comment on Twitter this morning (att. RedJohnSocialist): “Corbyn refused to have dinner with Trump. Johnson backed him for the Nobel Peace Prize.”

The fact is that Johnson and a number of members of his government have made clear their admiration of Donald Duck Trump.  They have got some explaining to do. 

It is worth considering why the leading international cheerleaders for Brexit were Trump and Putin,  in the face of caution/opposition voiced by an enormous range of international leaders, stretching from Obama to the Pope.   Perhaps,  just possibly,  there was something in it for the two of them ? 

It is also worth considering whether a man who has so ostentatiously modelled himself on Trump and his modus operandi,  who now presides over a daily death rate exceeding 1,000 and cumulative figures well ahead of any other European country is fit to remain in office.  (Hint: he isn’t)

964 people died of covid yesterday in the UK and 981 the day before. Taken together those sum to the highest total of any European country for the two days. The total number who have died of the virus in the UK is 73,512, exceeded just by Italy’s toll of 74,159 but way ahead of Germany (34,182), France (64,632) and the rest.

Last night the UK left Europe on a raft of broken promises and outright lies.

The two points are connected. Both result from decisions of a government goaded on by right wing politicians who cares nothing for the good of their people. Those fool enough to support them suffer the consequences: poverty, ignominy or death.

Today is the start of a New Year. It will, almost certainly, be a year in which calls to fight for Scottish independence will grow to a crescendo: a “clamour for the claymore” as you might say. If and when Scotland does leave the union – and there is a very good chance that that will be soon, in all likelihood to be followed by the reunification of Ireland – they will take with them, along with piles of fish, a nuclear haven or two, Abernethy biscuits, oatcakes, and God knows how much whisky, the end of all hope for Britain as a significant international force.

Happy New Year

If Starmer truly will not seek major changes to Johnson’s fractured relationship with the EU, he will take away my major reason for supporting him. I’ll do what he wouldn’t: abstain.

Let me be clear: Brexit was a Tory project, aided and abetted by Jeremy Corbyn. If Starmer will not even attempt to correct it and represent the views of the majority who do not want it he is fanning the flames of Scottish independence and political apathy.

There is no point in voting for a party which wilfully disregards what many – including me – consider the most important and most corrupted political decision of our lifetimes.

I understand his point: Johnson’s “deal” is better than no deal; and I appreciate than many Labour voters made no secret that they wanted shot of the EU; and that an Opposition, to be taken seriously has to have opinions; but Kier Starmer is profoundly wrong to whip his troops to vote in favour of Johnson’s “deal.”

And the reason I say that is simple: by a matter of almost immediate sleight of hand, it will be transformed into his deal overnight. And it will be a disaster.  Businesses across the country are already realising the additional administration, and costs they will face, the uncertainty; individuals will find travel more expensive and more irksome; tourism will be hit; professionals with British qualifications will no longer be free to work through out Europe, even assuming they can get there.   Anybody who cannot see that the  impending bonfire of workers rights, and environmental protections is a simpleton and a poltroon.

The route to power is not to assume responsibility for the errors of opponents.  Brexit is a Tory disaster and should remain so.  If ever there was a time for abstention, this is it.

Let me begin by stating my assumptions:

1. Lord Sumption may have a brain the size of a cabbage, but he has no medical qualifications, at all
2. His Lordship does not live on a housing estate, do his own housekeeping, nor face any pressing need to move amongst the great unwashed
3. Amongst his plethora of possessions his Lordship does not number a crystal ball

From these it follows that his Lordship’s views on the efficacy of a covid-vaccine, or the respective merits of social distancing, mask wearing and isolated exercise may be better considered, but are no better informed than mine.  And he has no right to take decisions that may influence my chance of living out a full and happy life.

I’ve mentioned it before, but since he was on the Radio again only yesterday generously a-sharing of his views, it behoves me to say it again, that Lord Sumption may know a thing or two about the judicial process, may have his opinions about the importance of controls over the imposition by government of rules and regulations, but is no better informed than the rest of us about the medical implications of the path he proposes.  It is Lord Sumption’s view that the infirm, weak and nervous should be protected, so far as possible, from covid, but that “the rest of us” should be unencumbered by additional regulations and free to go about our business, as we choose.

There may be times when that view may have its merits, but those times are not when effective vaccine has been created,  the government is doling it out as hard as it can go,  cases are running at something like ten times that daily rates they were in much of April (yesterday’s figure was over 40,000),  and the death rate appears set to soar.  To place freedom above life is not just bizarre, it is ass-sinine.

So, as many predicted, at time zero a trade deal was agreed.  But, – read these words carefully, they are the words of the prime minister – “the deal  ‘does not go as far as we would like’ over access to EU markets for financial services.”  If ever there was a statement that portended disaster,  this is it.  Financial services provide the life blood to the British economy:  they  drive innovation, employment and the economy.  If the financial services move their business to Europe, and they already are,  rather than a rousing chorus of Rule Britannia the British economy will sink to the sound of I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles (and, by the way, any reader miserable enough not to have clicked on those links deserves to spend an hour or two sitting in a cold dark coal cellar, his only companions,  the prime minister and other rats).

Brexit is not – will not be -a cliff edge, but a process of attrition.   The prime minister and his team of incompetents, liars and bullies, will have negotiated away our critical position as a leading member and key influence within and with of Europe for a delusion.   But one thing is certain, by the time realisation dawns he will be long gone: rats do not stay aboard a sinking ship.

I read yesterday of the death of Doug Scott, the great mountaineer.   His achievements were stupendous.  He was the first Englishman to climb Everest, and on the descent he and Dougal Haston survived a night in an unplanned bivouac, without oxygen.  On another occasion, climbing with the legendary Chris Bonnington on the Ogre in the Karakoram, he broke both legs and had to crawl back to Base Camp – perhaps I should add that the accident took place at an altitude of about 23,000 ft and the crawl took 4 days.

He was not just tough and brave, he was also a deeply sincere and caring man.  His charity work in Nepal saved many lives and he had a great understanding of the country and its culture.

And Doug Scott taught me a lesson I will never forget. Back in the late 1980’s I flew to Kathmandu for my first ever vacation outside, well, outside anywhere really.  I found myself sitting next to a rather rough looking chap,  with long hair and a shaggy beard. “Oh Lord,” I thought, “the last of the legendary Kathmandu hippies, just my luck,”  and studiously ignored him.  When we got to Kathmandu and I was waiting in arrivals – in those days  not much more than garden shed – for my luggage, I watched as sack after sack of heavy weight moutaineering equipment was unloaded, each labelled in thick black marker “Doug Scott.”

“Wow,” I thought, “Doug Scott was on my flight,” and turning round I realised who he was: the hippy who had been sitting next to me.

That’s the last time I judge anybody on appearances.