By Abigail Pennson, our reasonable, plain-speaking middle-class columnist who fears she must prepare cyanide for the family as Eva did
WE tend not to brag about majorities, in this country. As Blair proved, it’s vulgar. Boris’s was only described as ‘stonking’ in sly tribute to his sexual charisma.
But what looms ahead of us, red and pumping with power and bloody huge, will soon overwhelm us all. Not two weeks hence, the dormant volcano of Stamer’s supermajority will erupt. None will have any choice but to swallow it.
Never heard of a supermajority before? That’s because the term was invented last week to describe the sheer scale of the approaching catastrophe. And it’s already out of date. We should now be calling it the ultramajority, hypermajority or Granddad’s Knob.
With polls showing the Tories returning a mere 53 seats – more than those blue socialists deserve – Starmer has ultimate power. Parliament, the Lords, the Royal Family, the judiciary can all be incinerated in a glance of his single red eye.
This is no ordinary, sensible majority, like Thatcher’s modest 144. With a majority of 382, half his party could rebel against a palpably insane policy like legalising fanny-farming and he’d still thrust it through like a dick through a glory hole.
The weight of it will warp reality itself. You’ll wake up on July 5th and think ‘Was the sun always black? Did my non-binary children always eat toasted songbirds for breakfast? Why is my car a pond?’
Stepping out into a world insane, where the idle are showered with cash and strivers forced to strap on wooden limbs as punishment, where dropped banknotes worm along the ground on their way to the NHS, your mind will recoil and shatter.
And in the distance? Towering over everything, as large as the sky, crushing all hope? Deforming concepts like kindness into abominations like ‘let refugees in’? Starmer’s supermajority, ensuring the rightful party of power will never hold office again.
Limit his majority to 200, maximum. Let the Tories lie fallow and recover. Let Labour prove themselves, once again, genetically unfit to rule. And await the rising of a new Johnson.
