DB Lenck's Mutinous Musings: March 2019

The city gardeners of Oxford, having realised with shock and sadness, that the Brexicological madness prevents me from going to La Banne d'Ordanche this year, decided to plant up the park land area in front of my house with daffodils. Daffodils as far as the eye can see. Never seen that before in Oxford! Almost like a flower-field in Hillegom, that bastion of Dutch bulb merchants. Enjoy!

Other flowers tried to steal inside the daffodil enclosure, but few succeeded

The gutter was the only place left for this humble dandelion

Aconites, I think, behind the railings

The yellow dots are the aconites

Grape hyacinths in full bloom

Daffodil fields from back view

And here is one of La Banne d'Ordanche, as a comparison - practically the same!

John Bercow, the Speaker, has become a bit of a hero to some!

Lots of photos below!!!!

So it finally happened. Today is the second day of 'Freedom At Last' from the Great Hated Interfering Teutonically Dominated Continental Tyrant Eco-Area - not.

Yes, ladles and gentlemints, Brexit has been postponed, maybe until 12 April, or maybe until 22 May, perhaps even until two years' from now, or possibly like who knows whatever it's tricky innit?

My nerves are shot and I have long ago abandoned even the pretense of focusing on anything other than Brexit. I know that there is nothing I can do, I know that the stress is undermining the sunny equanimity of disposition that is my normal state in life, and I know that Brexit sounds like an own-brand dog-food from Lidl - I just don't care. This is the most exciting, albeit frightening and aggravating thing that has happened in this country since WWII, and I am determined to extract every ounce (yes, not grams, you Europhiliac Traitors) I can muster!

After initially resigning myself to the inevitable exodus from the EU - the people had spoken and must be obeyed - the ineptitude and shambolic mismanagement of the last two years have changed my mind, like those of many others. I simply don't believe that the people who can't even get a deal through parliament can make deals with the rest of the world. And I have become more and more suspicious. Since when were politicians, especially conservative, exceedingly rich, politicians, interested in enforcing the will of the people?

Anyway. I have pulled myself together and did a few things. Firstly, I have signed the Big Petition for Staying in the EU - now over 6 million signatories:

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/241584

And on last week's Saturday I went to the Great Demonstration.

Preparing for it was a big dispiriting - almost everyone I asked had some feeble excuse for not going. Anything from "but I have a mouth organ playing lesson that afternoon and already paid!", to "there will be violence!" Only my trusty Friend & Favourite Triplet, JB, decided to gang up with me.

To make the experience as user friendly as possible, we decided not to join the demo at the start, at Marble Arch. The path of progress was from Marble Arch to Pall Mall to Trafalgar Square to Parliament Square. The gathering started at 12:00, and the last speakers would finish at 16:30. That would have been five hours of standing and marching, since we had to get back to base after the speeches. Without potty breaks! Doable, perhaps, but not strictly speaking necessary. JB and I were not placard-carrying front-line leaders, we were just attending to swell numbers. So there seemed no reason why we couldn't meet for lunch, and then join the other marchers.

Thusly we met at the club, which is on Pall Mall, for a bite to eat, and joined the crowds at 13:30. Lest you think this was a bit incongruous - exclusive club lunch followed by rioting - let me tell you that this particular club is a hotbed of radicals and freedom fighters. They were swarming all over the club, carrying furled banners, wearing clothes that broke the dress code, illegally using their mobile telephone devices on the premises, and generally exhibiting an air of lawless frivolity.

The staff of the club, mainly foreigners from Europe, had been infected by the general mood, and since I had arrived a few hours before JB, I spent them discussing the situation with the loo cleaner, barman, and security guard at the door. It was a heady, heedless, and revolutionary atmosphere!

By the time we had to leave, the big front doors had been closed. They were unlocked for us, and we inched our way outside, suddenly worried about our own courage - was it safe?

We needn't have worried. Never have I experienced such a crowd of good-natured, cheerful, and well behaved individuals. This was middle class, middle aged, slow-to-anger steadfast-to-their-purpose Middle England, and they did not put a foot wrong. The roads were heaving with persons of all ages, including those too young or old to walk, and aside from an altercation with several skin-heads (soon subdued), who pulled an EU hat from the head of an old lady, there were no incidents.

As we wended our way towards Parliament Square, protesting and poster waving, our march was only interrupted by rhythmic shouting of the newly coined protest chant "Where is Jeremy Corbin?". That fallacious opposition leader was nowhere to be seen, and was visiting some blood-bank for homeless fleas or some similar pseudo-virtuous venue in the northern realms instead.

However, we did have all sorts of inspirational speakers, from politicians like Tom Watson and Michael Heseltine and Caroline Lucas, to a representative of the NHS, who pointed out that before any operation patients have to give 'informed' consent, after having been supplied with all information necessary for making an informed decision. And if patients changed their mind just before the operation, they could withdraw consent. This highlighted the hypocrisy of the politicians involved in Brexityria, who are changing their minds before every vote in parliament, but lecture voters who want to do the same thing on the evils of anti-democratically undermining the Will of the People by wanting to have another vote on the most important decision faced by most voters in their life-time.

Being of a small and intrusive nature, I managed to insinuate myself into the crowds, and slithered like a lizard through the masses and to the head of the demonstration (followed somewhat reluctantly by my more reticent friend), until eventually we ended up on the green lawn of Parliament Square, and had a front line view of the whole venture.

We listened and we clapped and we booed and ooh-ed at all the right places of the various invigorating speeches, and although I did not get as carried away as some when Michael Heseltine commanded us to "go forth into our villages and spread the gospel" it was nevertheless a wonderful occasion and simply monumental.

Now it is back to being worried and upset and really awfully cross about the whole thing!

Before I went to the Club I drifted through Selfridges - neato deco!

Just outside the Club Doors

Lots of babies and pushwainlings

Some people came with official looking signs, others with home-made ones

Pro-Brexit politicians' quotes were on many posters, and highlighted their hypocrisy
("That what I said when I thought we would lose, but now that we won I have changed my mind!")

That's our Nigel in a cage

Large boards transmitted the speakers' words to those who did not manage to get into Parliament Square itself; there were so many people that most of them had to remain in the roads surrounding the square.

The newly coined word 'Brexshit' was featured on many placards

The sign says, 'Mimes against Brexit'. I had no idea there were so many mimes in the country!

Note the long nose, and the heart-shaped EU flag?

I love this Poster!!!!

Another innovative thought imaginatively expressed

A reference to Blackadder, of course. Balrick always had a keen and cunning plan, unlike Brexicological politicians.

A nice sentiment 'Democracy is a process, not an event'. Yes, people don't vote once and for all times, they get to vote often and can change their minds. Democracy 101.