We Don’t Need This Fascist Groove Thing, 21st December 2020; It’ll Be Lonely This Christmas – writes Philip Gilbert

 

brexit‘London’s burnin’

 

(With boredom now)
London’s burnin’‘

 

It’s a cold and misty Christmas Eve in London, Johnson and his cabinet are sitting round the table contemplating the achievements of their first year in office. The only noise is Matt Hancock sobbing. When suddenly a vision appears before them all; ‘oh no, its that bloody Marcus Rashford, cries Priti Patel.

The vision of a  ghostly Marcus Rashford, says; ‘I have come to visit the sins of you and your party Johnson’. I will show you your party’s past, future and present’.

The room appears to spin round further disorientating the cabinet, then before them they see streets ablaze, bricks being thrown, and civil disorder. ‘It’s Beirut’ says one of the cabinet.

‘No,’ says the ghost, ‘these are the urban riots in the inner city areas of Bristol, Brixton, Moss Side in Manchester, Wolverhampton, Smethwick and Birmingham in the West Midlands Leeds, Leicester; Nottingham. Caused by Mrs Thatcher’s policies and unemployment.

 

‘Why must the youth fight against themselves?
Government leaving the youth on the shelf..’

 

‘I told you these were shadows of the things that have been,’ said the ghost. ‘That they are what they are, do not blame me!”

There are more images, this time police against strikers, it’s the miners strike of 1984-85, when Thatcher determined to break the unions, and used the miners to do so. ‘whole communities relied on mining for their livelihood,’ said the ghost, ‘before the strike there was 170 collieries in Britain, employing more than 190,000 people, now there are fewer than 20 collieries, employing only 5,000 people.’

Then another vision appears before them; British soldiers fighting far away in the South Atlantic, dead bodies, the cheering crowds waving Union Jack flags as Thatcher takes the salute.

 

‘Is it worth it?
A new winter coat and shoes for the wife
And a bicycle on the boy’s birthday..’

 

Finally, there is a vision of a lady with an ironclad hairdo speaking to an audience; ‘There is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women and there are families.’ (1)

‘This is your mistake,’ says the ghost, ‘society is what binds us together, if not you became selfish.’

The cabinet sits there stunned, but the ghost is unrelenting. As Johnson tries to speak the ghost silences him, ‘now we visit the present, ‘I see vacant seats people will die’ (2) .

The ghost turns to Jacob Rees-Mogg, ‘you dared to accuse Unicef of a ‘political stunt’ after the UN agency distributed over £700,000 to help feed deprived children in the UK during the Covid-19 pandemic. The only people who should be ashamed of themselves are Boris Johnson and the rest of his government for letting our children go hungry. In one of the richest countries in the world, our children should not be forced to rely on a charity that usually works in war zones and in response to humanitarian disasters. The only scandal here is this rotten Tory government leaving 4.2 million children living in poverty, a number that will only rise due to the coronavirus crisis.’

The ghost turns to Johnson, ‘your prevarication over ordering the first lockdown, the indecision over the second, and now the sudden cancellation of Christmas relaxations and imposition of a Yuletide lockdown on London and the southeast, is costing lives. People have spent money they don’t have on a Christmas they now won’t have.’

The ghost continues, ‘your country suffered the double-whammy of having one of the highest death levels per million of population while enduring the most severe hit to the economy among the G7 club of prosperous states. You should all hang your heads in shame.’

‘And you’, the ghost turns to Hancock who is still blubbering, ‘how many did you endanger with your treatment of care homes?’

‘And you’, the ghost turns to Williamson, ‘how many children’s educations have you ruined?’

‘All of you have gloried in the power but not taken responsibility for your actions’ said the ghost and his glare swept round the room. ‘Six senior civil servants, among them the cabinet secretary, have been sacked or pushed out this year, yet not one of you has thought of resigning’, shouted the ghost.’ Your actions are irresponsible, no wonder party members describe you as ‘lightweight’, ‘talentless’, ‘loyalist duds’ and ‘nodding dogs’.

‘You wasted £12bn of the public’s money on a ‘world beating’ test and trace system, and paid your friends to run that, and other parts of the system.’

‘You’, says the ghost singling out Johnson, ‘were full of praise for the nurses who saved you, yet you soon forgot them, hollow words and token gestures’.

‘And you, all of you, have had over 4-yrs to prepare for Brexit’, shouts a visibly angry ghost jabbing his finger toward the cabinet collective, ‘and where are you now? Nowhere’.

The room is stunned into silence, except for Priti Patel who is talking to an aide on her mobile, enquiring as to whether, under the new points system, the ghost might be deported.

 ‘And now’, booms the ghost, ‘let use see what the future holds.’ The ghost runs around screaming like a banshee..

 

‘We found you hiding, we found you lying
Choking on the dirt and sand..’

 
‘Queues, screams the ghost, ‘all I see is queues’

‘Queues for food, lorries in long queues, queues of people waiting for their unemployment benefit’   

‘And a much shorter queue of your rich friend waiting in the first-class departure longue, or for their private jets.’

‘And I see isolation and loneliness’ howls the ghost. ‘People alone, away from their loved ones. A country isolated, with few trade partners, all for your nationalistic jingoism.’

The ghost is now whirling round the room, screaming like a banshee, ‘you have been a disservice to your people for over 40-years. What gives you the right to think you can govern?’

Now, at this point in the play, Scrooge’s words indicate that he knows he is the dead man mourned by no one. Scrooge asks if he can change his fate, hoping that is the Ghost’s point in showing his future. The Spirit’s shaking hand, as described by the narrator, seems to display pity for Scrooge. If the Ghost serves as only the messenger, he may feel for Scrooge, and may not know whether Scrooge’s future can be changed.

Please excuse this piece of fun, it was an opportunity to good to miss. Of course, we know that Johnson and his mob will not feel contrite in the way that Scrooge did, which is unfortunate but typical of them.

To all of you who have had to suffer the weekly indignity that is the column, I wish you and your families a wonderful Christmas, and a happy, healthy, and prosperous New Year.
 

‘Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I’ve got a feeling
This year’s for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true..’

 

Notes:

  1. https://www.margaretthatcher.org/document/106689
  2. The actual quote is, ‘I see a vacant seat. The child will die’. He’s telling scrooge that Tim is going to die unless he helps.

 
As things apparently go from bard to verse, Philip delivers his very personal version of a Christmas literary staple; it was never going to be comedy, but it’s a cracker – Priti Patel, Matt Hancock and Marcus Rashford is not everybody’s dream bubble, but there is some biting satire in there.

Much of the muck is well-raked – a truly appalling year approaching a period of sadness and deprivation for many. Given that this column was initially a commentary on the twists and turns en route to Brexit, it may see the 1500 lorries clogging East Kent and travel bans imposed on UK travelers and auld lang syne by Zoom something of a defeat.

The images he invokes may be sepia-toned or unrecognisable to many, but one of Philip’s earliest contributions included mountains of waste in Leicester Square, riots in Brixton and horses charging at Orgreave; let us hope that the ghost’s fears are unfounded, and that next year is much less ‘exciting’ than this. 

A bonus for lyric spotters this week, and a deadline shortened by the festivities; ‘the lyrics aren’t really the point of this week, but here goes’ – the first Philip considers so easy it ‘needs no introduction and nil points on offer’ – so here’s an early present – The Clash and ‘London’s Burning’ – check out this 1977 video!

Next, ‘ lesser-known lyric from a song you will know’ 2pts for ‘Ghost Town’; then ‘an easy song’ but 3 pts for the vocalist on the single – Robert Wyatt – and a bonus three for ‘the trumpeter who played on the album version recorded by the writer’*

Then ‘this is about as hard as it gets this week. The only clue is that the band’s name appears in the article and the singer’s family were originally from Belgium’ – 3 well earned points for Siouxie and the Banshees and a further three for ‘Cities in Dust’.

Last but by no means ‘ c’mon this is too easy. So, instead it’s 3-points for naming the original name of Shane’s band?’ Fill your boots with The Pogues, The Nipple Erectors or the Popes.

That’s quite a year – let’s hope we never have another one like it. Enjoy!

*Chet Baker
 


 



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