Gosh and golly gosh!
Everything’s right in the world!
- Mr Gove’s educational reforms will transform Britain into Islands of Saints and Scholars.
- Mr Duncan Smith will sort out all our pensions and welfare worries.
- Mr Hunt (no stuttering over that name, please!) will ensure we all live for ever! Or at least better for longer.
- Mrs May will personally
mandefend the national borders against unauthorised entry. Wops, wogs and dagoes, go home!
- And the economy is turning the corner.
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
What can possibly go wrong?
Well, suddenly one remembers poor expiring little Tinkerbell — needing the breath of propagandist life to be inflated by each little faithful Peter Pan of the owned Press, every running dog [走狗] of Tory Central:
Peter flung out his arms. There were no children there, and it was night time; but he addressed all who might be dreaming of the Neverland, and who were therefore nearer to him than you think: boys and girls in their nighties, and naked papooses in their baskets hung from trees.
“Do you believe?” he cried.
Tink sat up in bed almost briskly to listen to her fate.
She fancied she heard answers in the affirmative, and then again she wasn’t sure.
“What do you think?” she asked Peter.
“If you believe,” he shouted to them, “clap your hands; don’t let Tink die.”
Oh, please, please, let it be the Great British economic miracle!
All 0.7% of it!