Forget about a bad deal. No deal at all is the best for… well, Jacob Rees-Mogg, if not Britain.
The man himself spoke to LCD Views through an interpreter who specialises in Elizabethan English.
“Put it this way,” purred Moggy. “I am actually reasonably well off. This is despite the restrictions that are placed upon reckless pursuit of profit by any means possible. I am just an ordinary Englishman. What’s good for me is good for every other ordinary Englishman.”
Impeccable logic, but as usual a small flaw or two, old chap. For example, restrictions are for the common good.
“Restrictions are for the common man!” Rees-Mogg retorted. “The drones, the serfs, the quasi-slave class. It is for their own good. It prevents them from rising above their station. They must always work hard, so that the ordinary English gentleman is free to behave in a manner appropriate to his status!”
Which is…
“Pish! Tush! Pshaw!” spluttered Rees-Mogg. “If you don’t understand, you are no gentleman yourself! An ordinary English gentleman must be in possession of a fortune and several hundred acres in Somersetshire, and he must spend his time on higher pursuits. Here, if you want to know more, read these contemporary novels by Jane Austen.”
What about wealth creation? Isn’t that your responsibility?
“You misunderstand,” he replied urbanely. “My responsibility is to safeguard and stockpile the wealth and invest it wisely.”
So, in essence, you hoard both capital and income, most of it earned by the sweat of others? Doesn’t that make you some kind of economic parasite?
“You are an oik of the lowest kind, sir,” he remarked dismissively. “Guards, escort this scullion, this fustilarian, to the boundary, and beat him soundly if he dare utter another word!”
Laws, taxes, restrictions of all kinds – for the many, not the few. Tug your forelock on the way out.