Our Mandelson in Washington

Whether it goes under the influence of an alcoholically demented chimpanzee or a tangerine trash-can driven by the defecations of a hydrophobic head-tribble - wherever America goes, there must the heirs of Blair sycophantically follow. Thus it is that the World Cop's re-election of a several-times-disgraced right-wing crank has brought about the latest recrudescence of Lord Mandelbrot the Infinitely Recurring, this time as ambassador for the World Cop's clapped-out comedy sidekick. The CEO of Team Starmer has pronounced that sucking up to the Trumpster constitutes hard-headed realism, in virtuous contrast to any antisemitic sentimentality about single markets and freedom of movement. The current choice between Europe and the US is therefore as false a dichotomy as the choice between Europe twenty years ago (viz. staying out of the Iraq quagmire) and the chimpanzee's America (viz. plunging into the Iraq quagmire); and, after all, Winston Churchill never felt he had to choose between allies. In fact, Churchill's disdain for the beastly Euro-wogs was precisely why he took a favourable view of their working together with each other rather than with the master race: he thought Britain's rightful station was among the superpowers, not in equal partnership with lesser breeds. In a similar tradition of greatness among the English-speaking peoples, Lord Mandelbrot himself has already parroted the National Johnson's blithering rah-and-blah about having our cake and eating it, and has thereby made a fine rhetorical start towards the coveted Faragean photo-opportunity in the gold-plated lift.