Annunziata Rees-Mogg, newly elected MEP for the East Midlands, has expressed a certain amount of confusion. Where the hell is it, she wants to know.
This will come as a great comfort to voters in Sutton-on-Sea, Chapel-en-le-Frith and Barton-in-the-Beans. She is a clean slate, a blank page. She will have no preconceptions as well as no knowledge.
“One has no idea where this East Midlands place is,” said Annunziata, after several victory glasses of vintage champagne. “It doesn’t matter, it sounds ghastly, wherever it is. I’m not going to sit in the bloody EU parliament anyway!”
Erm, it’s your job now, a nervous aide reminded her. You have been democratically elected to serve…
“Nonsense! Off with his head!” she retorted. “I rule, you serve. That’s what this is all about. Remove this blithering idiot from my presence and have him executed at dawn!”
I have a map of the UK if it helps, squeaked another aide. If you take the train from St Pancras…
“One does not use public transport!” she replied magnificently. “If one cannot get there within the hour in one’s brother’s post chaise, then it can’t be worth going. Throw this man into the dungeons!”
Look, it’s just here! gestured the departing minion, desperately waving his map as Annunziata’s heavies dragged him off by the hair.
“One does not even acknowledge the existence of The North,” replied Annunziata conclusively. “Flat caps, clogs and cobbles. Like one of Jacob’s little fantasies.”
Very soon the afterglow of her victory began to fade. Before long, like a Cheshire Cat, all that remained was Nigel Farage’s grin.
Once upon a time, the UK followed a white elephant down a rabbit hole. It followed a dodo, ate some magic mushrooms and listened in thrall to a pack of lies told by a pack of cards. Let us hope that it wakes up before it’s too late.