Boris’s Fawlty moment

Much as I despise Boris Johnson as a politician, I can’t believe that his alleged outburst that he would rather “let the bodies pile high” than impose another lockdown was anything other than a howl of frustration worthy of Basil Fawlty in his pomp.

In moments of stress or argument, do we not all say things that we don’t mean – to hurt, to provoke or to shock? I’ve certainly been known to do so, but I’ve been fortunate enough not to be someone whose words are taken seriously by those around me, and certainly I’ve never been attended by po-faced acolytes hovering with notebooks when I’ve let rip.

The consequences of loose words spoken in anger are a reason why I rarely text, tweet or email when I’m angry. The dopamine hit of a good rant rarely lasts long, and usually ends in remorse. Best to let the words blow away in the wind. But if you’re in Johnson’s position, your words will never blow away, especially if you create an environment in which someone who stops being a friend automatically becomes an enemy.

The thought of Boris blowing a fuse in front of his advisers brings to mind Kim Jong Un, who always surrounds himself with eager toadies who scribble his every word in their notebooks. I imagine them gathering in conclaves away from his presence just to make sure that their notes tallied. In his darker moments, I wonder if our prime minister doesn’t envy Kim, whose sidekicks know that one false move or leaked word can result in them being blown away rather than the words he utters.

Anyway, I don’t for a moment believe that Boris doesn’t care about those whose bodies have been piling up over the past year. He’s just fond of using words for dramatic effect. In that sense he’s rather like a pubescent schoolboy who’s just discovered his willy. He doesn’t care about truth or lies, only about the gratification that a good turn of phrase (or hand) can deliver.

Should we care about the onanistic ranting of our leader? After all, we elected him in full knowledge of his track record of offensive remarks, which is second only to that of our beloved and recently departed Prince Philip. Only if we think he believes the stuff he says, which is highly debatable. More important, for me at least, is the damage he has caused by treating politics as a game to be played which he was determined to win. Having won the game, he has seemed unable to figure out how to achieve anything without continuing the tactics that brought him to power.

The only thing that’s certain is that he will go eventually, and someone else will have the job of clearing up the mess, or possibly making it worse. The question is when enough of the electorate realises that he’s just a naughty boy. His colleagues in parliament know that already. The odds are that they’ll make the decision first, before we get the chance to have our say.

In which case, good riddance, and good luck to him in his return to the future as a newspaper columnist and occasional pantomime star.