I have no wish to be alarmist, and as I write it is certainly true that the Union (that sees Northern Ireland as a constituent part of the United Kingdom) remains in place.  But for how much longer?

Jonathan Powell recently explained that the Secretary of State for Ireland is required have a border poll when opinion polls indicate that there is a majority for a united Ireland.   And with Sinn Féin a significant player in the politics of the Republic that situation is fast approaching.  That is not an inevitability – as in all probability we will soon be told – it is a direct result of Brexit, which has pitched Northern Ireland into leaving the EU when a majority of its citizens wanted Remain.  And they wanted Remain for good reason: the economies of northern and southern Ireland are so intertwined as to make any formal separation either impossible, or dangerous, or both.  Imagine the nightmare of a farmer whose land straddles the border – can he really be expected to fill in paperwork every time he calls his cattle home to milk.

“There will be no forms,” said the Flatulent Leader.  That was a lie.  It is an inevitability, there will be forms and checks, it is simply a question of where the border will be set.  And if, as looks almost certain – it’s as certain as anything in the crazy world of Brexit – it’s an invisible line down the Irish Sea, then the forces calling for a united Ireland will be irresistible.

I’m not finished yet: it gets worse.  Because if Northern Ireland is to be allowed a vote on leaving the UK, then Scotland will demand the same.  And rightly.   Don’t get me wrong: I want Scotland to remain in the Union.  I think it is in English and Scottish interests that it should.  But the way to achieve that is hardly to drag the country out of the EU in which a large majority of its voters have clear their preference to remain.  The nightmare that will then ensue does not bear thinking of: smugglers operating over Hadrian’s Wall being the least of the problems.

And if Northern Ireland, if Scotland, then how about Wales, Cornwall, Little Gadstone?

Far from relaxing standards on workers rights and, critically, the environment, the UK, we were assured during the Brexit campaign, will adhere to new standards, even more rigorous than those of our erstwhile partners.  Anyone with half a brain cell saw this for the lie it was: if we are to introduce higher standards, there is no point in arguing with the EU’s insistence that we stick, at least, to theirs.

This morning  in the Guardian (you can find it here) there is a horrifying report setting out some of the problems with proposed new legislation – putting aside a delay in its introduction a main issue is that large parts of the protection for our countryside and wildlife become essentially voluntary.  God help us.

Don’t say we were not warned.  We were told loud and clear that the Flatulent Leader is a man of a single principle, himself; and nothing he says can be trusted.  Brexit will be a doddle we were told:  it’ll save us money, enable us to break free of red tape and surge to new heights of power, wealth and influence.

And now, we are beginning to learn the truth.  The campaigning, environmentally aware FL is posed to approve HS2 in the teeth of fierce opposition from his own MPs and much of the country.  The last time I wrote about HS2, it’s cost had risen to an estimated amount of around £56bn – that now stands at £106bn; and it is worth bearing in mind that this is simply to replace existing rail links, and make them run a bit faster.  A saving of, say 20 minutes, between London and Sheffield.  Or, between Sheffield and London.  Because that’s the point : trains run in both directions, and a rail link that brings business to the North can equally well be used to take businessmen to the South.  What is not in doubt is that the FL sees this, as with “Boris bikes” (cost £250m), un-usable water cannon (cost £3m), garden bridge that span nothing (cost £50m), as a vanity project.  It is not about “the North” it is, as with everything else that comes within the ambit of his glinting little eye,  about him.

My thoughts are on fish – as it happens I’m off for a fish and chip supper with a friend this evening – to understand their importance in our grand national debate you need only consider the number of politicians who just happen to be named after them: Sturgeon, Salmond, Rudd and Crabb for example.  I’ve yet to hear of any called Cockle, Winkle or Croaker, but who knows?    The day may come.

One thing every fisherman knows about is temptation: bait.  “Use a sprat to catch a mackerel,” as they say.

Now we all know – it’s one of those “inescapable facts of life” that Piggling’s father was a fisherman.  And he lost his business.  I’m very sorry about it.  I am sure we all are.   But that is no reason to flounder into negotiations with the EU with the determination to trade off access to British waters against the right to market financial services in Europe.

It’s bonkers.  The one accounts for a tenth of 1% of the UK’s economy, the other about 7%.

This morning on the radio I heard a politician (presumably not a member of the government or he would not be “allowed” to appear on a public service news programme) explaining that fishing is vital to outlying communities in Cornwall and Skye.  I dare say it is, but then so are the roads, the police, the health service, schools, ferries … I could go on – funded by the taxes paid by financial services and those who work in them.  Not by fishermen.

“Fuck business,” said the Flatulent Leader, some time before he assumed office, and “fuck business,” is what he has seemed hell bent on ever since. “Brexit is behind us, now is the time to come together,” he told us before embarking on some of the the most divisive policies this country has known. And there is, for the moment, and as far as I can see, no constitutional measure to stop him.

The uncertainty hanging over individuals, small business, large business as Britain careers towards… towards what? A deal with the EU – the market for roughly 50% of the goods we export – or no deal? Tariffs, no tariffs? No certainty over the legal structure that will oversee future trade, no certainty over the paperwork, the checks, the very time it will take for a lorry to pass through the docks. That’s all bad enough.

But come to consider the diminution in Britain’s international standing and diplomatic clout and you will truly glimpse the damage that Brexit has done and will continue to do, as the British Prime Minister is seen truly caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

One final point gives just as a flavour of things to come: arguably the most important issue facing the country, and indeed the entire world, is climate change. Who does Johnson ask to take charge of the COP 26 Climate Summit? Dave-boy-Cameron, the prime minister whose misjudgement and arrogant laziness got us into the Brexit mess in the first place.

Today is a day of national disgrace. A day when lies, stupidity and xenophobia – not to say sheer bloody bigotry – succeeded.

Shame on Johnson.

If you, like me, find the idea of a “celebration” of Brexit sticks in the craw, the idea of being forced to accept the Brexit 50p – whose missing comma makes it suitably designed to serve as a reminder of the incompetence and illiteracy of the supporters of that ill-conceived course – is close to intolerable.

Remember the parable of “the talents?” It’s the one where the man with a single talent went away and buried it. That’s Johnson to a T – his talent for plausible lying buried beneath slew of bluster, cowardice and incompetence.

His latest wheeze which, we are told, is a pursuit of “talents,” will commence in February in a drive to recruit scientists and mathematicians. Where from? Don’t ask – you might not like the answer. The recruiting ground will, of course, be English speaking countries where their prospects are less than they would gain by coming to the UK. My guess is that we are talking, primarily, of the Sub-Continent . I would have added Eastern Europe, but after the uncertainty generated by the Flatulent One and his cronies in recent years I doubt if that will prove ripe territory.

However, there it is, Johnson wants to be surrounded by “talent.” In which case he should take the opportunity and shed his government of the two least talented figures to sit on any front bench in living memory: Pee-Pee Patel, and Javid, the Urban Spaceman.

If I were Rebecca Long-Bailey, Emily Thornberry or Lisa Nandy I’m not too sure I would want to be regarded as a token candidate. I think I would rather fight, and win, if I can, the Labour leadership on my own merits. Which would be a good thing, because that is exactly what the party, and more importantly, the country, needs: the best leader labour can produce, because, by God, there is a battle ahead.

On paper Keir Starmer is the man for the job: honed in his previous role of Director of Public Prosecutions, not to mention more recently as Brexit spokesman. There is no doubt he has the qualifications for the job. The question is whether he has the charisma, which only time can tell.

The suggestion that Starmer should stand aside on the ground that “it is time Labour had a female leader,” is disingenuous, and not particularly clever. In one phrase it manages to suggest that not one amongst Mss L-B, T or N could win the election on their own merits, or even in summation, and that Labour is more driven by factional “correctness” than performing its proper role as the most effective Opposition it can be.