Boris and the Elephant

elephant-990w“When an elephant appears in the market, the dogs are not far behind.” – Nepalese proverb.


I used that proverb in an article I wrote for a major Sporting Magazine. I was trying to be clever – I’m doing that again now. I’ll fail, but it’s ok. Typing at this keyboard, with the bluetooth connection to my remote speaker blipping and popping in the background, makes me happy.

When the Brexit thing happened and the votes had been counted I couldn’t quite believe it. I always thought the British people had evolved a bit – or at least kept up with the rest of the enlightened non-religious world. I was wrong. We’ve gone backwards as a nation. We’ve regressed into racist clam shells on some beautiful beach we should be riding unicorns and frolicking in the surf naked on. It was a future we could have had, and I thought we’d attain without a problem. All we had to do was squash the ignorant under out stiletto heels, then get drunk on humane free-thinking manna. I don’t smoke, but I’d pictured myself with a fat cigar and a lot of Anarchist literature. thumbing around for the next steps to a better world. Boris had other ideas.

When he joined the ten thousand pounds a year Bullingdon club, there were plenty of cigars. There were many smashed up restaurants, too. But I still argue there is an important difference about where you stub out your Monte Christo number four. Personally, I wasn’t thinking about grinding mine out into a Polish waiter’s forehead. My opinions don’t carry weight, though, in the wider world. They don’t even hold sway in my own house: I have a home appointment this afternoon with someone who oversees my care and has the power to have me forcibly removed to a Mental Hospital if I say the wrong things. Yeah…my views are that unimportant to you.

But Boris was right all along. OK, so now he is shell-shocked and his next move is uncertain, but he has won. He’s like the fat kid suddenly beating up the tough kid at school with one lucky punch. It’s earned him instant unblieving respect, but carries with it the knowledge everybody knows the truth. It’s like winning the lottery by hand drawing the winning numbers onto your ticket in crayon. We know you’re a fraud.

Still, at first I thought Boris and his band of miscreants were akin to the Elephant in my proverb. But they aren’t.

The Elephant is noble, it is unparalleled in strength and a sense of innate purpose. It is wild, and sometimes it is driven into unpredictable rages at things like lightning, and small rushes of breeze through a savanna. An Elephant can’t fathom complex issues. It is untrustworthy around a fire, and is only ‘safe’ around most other animals when it’s in chains, servitude, beaten, broken. But that power…

The Elephant in the proverb, in my mind, is knocking the market stalls everywhere. It is creating unwitting, or provoked, or even unprovoked, chaos; unstoppable and uncaring for anything other than itself. Panic-driven.

No, my friends, Boris is no Elephant. He and his friends are the dogs: forever following the dumb brute of the popular vote Elephant through the marketplace of political ideals and manipulated public opinions. They are wolfing down the fruits of another’s mistakes and fear. And in this case, they will grow fat from it. The market will close and the Elephant will be tied up and whipped, but the dogs will move on happy and sated. This is a grim future indeed on our tiny island: where people are confused and selfish, and where the Elite will go to any measures to maintain that warped and self-serving status quo.

My CPN will hear none of this talk this afternoon. If the subject raises itself I will tell her I have no opinion on the matter. This is neither brave nor true, but there are places where Elephants are not the most powerful creatures, and where even a hungry dog will not go.




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