Dear Santa, This year, in terms of Brexit, it’s been like watching a baby crawl towards an open fire, hell-bent on touching the pretty flame. Adults run to stop the baby. Some shout from afar. Others are open-mouthed, fear gripping the larynx like a boa constrictor. Which character I am in this scenario is unclear… Am I the baby, one of the adults, or the snake desperate for glory? As Brexit, Boris and Corbyn tango in hell, and take us with them, truth, lies and democracy are all to play for as their smoke and mirror tactics hold us hostage. Meanwhile, a civil situation is brewing which is polarising families and a nation. With it, it promises all the divisional thinking of the War of the Roses and we face entering the new decade of the twenties with the roar of pre-Victorian divisions: North vs South. Liberal vs Non-Liberal. Entitled vs Commoner. English vs Non-English. And the latest division, Remainer vs Leave. Two centuries on after the birth of Christ and it app...
The remarkable in the ordinary