https://amgreatness.com/2019/04/05/the-spurious-case-of-jeremy-corbyn/
Call me crazy, but I am beginning to suspect that thrusting a diehard Remainer into the job of pulling Great Britain out of the European Union was, on second thought, a bad move.
Excuse me for being glacially slow to arrive at this moment of clarity.
The revolution, though each pathetic flutter has been painfully televised, is indeed over. This week, Theresa May appears to have given up on her deal to leave the EU. And she is now siding with probably the most intellectually impoverished pseudo-sentient being to besmirch parliament in at least three centuries.
Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn, sexagenarian Holden Caulfield sans the wit, humor, or intellectual incision, is now entrusted with the most consequential decision to befall our country since World War II.
What Corbyn thinks about Brexit is largely unknown. If he thinks at all it is unverified. His ex-wife claimed that in their four years together, “Jeremy” didn’t read one book. And he detested “bourgeoise” holiday spots. In the middle flushes of his youth, he vacationed in Communist East Germany. So, as you may deduce, he is a barrel of laughs. A box of frogs.
But May, still our prime minister, reported this week she held “constructive” talks with Corbyn with the hope of solving the Brexit impasse. She can’t do much else. Lawmakers killed her withdrawal agreement three times. Other lawmakers threatened to take control, and then voted several times against taking any semblance of control.
A lawmaker friend of mine, one of the original and thoroughly fruity Brexiteers, is so desperate to leave he has voted for May’s deal three times.
“Nobody here,” he said, interrogatively, “seems to know what they are doing.” Which is alright, I suppose, if one is standing in a Subway queue and the meat of discussion centers upon pointlessly large sandwiches. The most consequential of endeavors in such instances concerns ranch dressing. But he was not in a sandwich shop. This was the House of Commons.