The Tories have been cancelled, tossed in the river, de-statued: the pop has been removed from their party – Fleet Street Fox

The North Shropshire by-election has done what the Covid regulations and Met Police couldn’t, says Fleet Street Fox. It’s made them wonder if, perhaps, they were wrong

Protesters transporting the statue of Colston towards the river Avon. Edward Colston was a slave trader of the late 17th century who played a major role in the development of the city of Bristol, England, on June 7, 2020. (Photo by Giulia Spadafora/NurPhoto via Getty Images)

Let me perfectly clear.

There is no party. Or at least, not any more.

There is just revisionism, a woke brigade of do-gooders, a mere 23,412 activist voters, and a lack of any leadership from a portly, ethically-shambolic character from the Wind in the Willows, barrelling wildly around the countryside, trailing sleaze and denials while shouting “poop poop!” at the sky.

If only there had been some warning from history that a moral vacuum wrapped in narcissism was not a vote-winner. If only they’d known the character of the man they chose as leader. If only the students of Oriel College, Oxford, had gone for a more general slogan: TOADS MUST FALL.

In 2019, the Tories won 35,444 votes in North Shropshire, from people who backed a serial liar, a damaging-to-everyone Brexit, and who responded well to immigration dog-whistles.

Two plague-ridden, economically-inflated, migrant-short years later, the number of lunatics in Oswestry and the surrounding towns and villages have been whittled down to 12,032.

Which means that 23,412 Tory voters have been successfully vaccinated against the Boris Johnson variant, which is to Conservatism as Ratty and Mole are to the banging Manchester club scene of the mid-1990s.

That means the vaccine is effective in 66% of cases, and appears to protect against chronic wingnuttery even in the least woke, truest blue constituencies. Let us all clap Ant and Dec for so effectively delivering it to millions every day, and award a damehood in the New Year’s Honours to the Daily Mirror’s chief party pooper, Pippa Crerar.

What does this mean? Will it translate to a general election? As political commentators clutch their pearls and their calculators, the most important effect of the North Shropshire by-election is not the sudden relevance of the Lib Dems, who took 2 years to work out Tim Farron was a bit wet even for them, but the fact that the Tories are finally seeing the benefits of cancel culture.

For by de-platforming them in Oswestry, the moss-covered monoliths that make up the Tory backbenches and constituency associations are now being forced into unaccustomed self-analysis.

They are being made to wonder whether, in fact, they might have done something wrong, and if that thing was so very wrong that mobs of angry, middle-class, white people will soon be taking to the streets, chanting Tory Lives Matter.

In short, the most hypersensitive, quick-to-spot-racism, infantile, demanding, privileged part of British society is waking up to the cold and wet realisation that they just might be snowflakes.

Any day now, Chris Whitty will take to the airwaves to politely inform us that the number of people who find the Prime Minister to be a loathsome grifter is rising exponentially, and no longer responding to his boosterism.

There’ll be a succession of PowerPoints showing how government scandals are doubling every two days, with knock-on effects on the daily rate of fits of the vapours in the shires. He’ll tell us the National Twat Service is reaching peak capacity, and exactly what percentage of Sir Desmond Swayne’s sphincter is now fully dilated.

We’ll be warned to isolate if we’ve come into contact with pro-Boris people, and meanwhile hardliners will resist all calls to limit our political interactions with a lockdown.

That will mean everyone’s infected with the opinion that the Prime Minister is a spaff-stained laundry hamper by Christmas, and they’ll only announce a lockdown once it’s too bloody late to stop the Tory Party dying on its arse whenever it dares to go to the polls.

“Next lie, please.”


Getty Images)

Because Brexit may be done, but Boris Johnson is toast. Well, not toast, because they have nothing so basic as burnt bread at Eton. He’s been done up like a line-caught kipper, laid on a buttered crumpet that was gently warmed on the fire while clenched between the gluteous maximii of the new boy, who whimpered for nanny throughout.

What happened in North Shropshire was a wobble of the pedestal that no party has a right to stand on for too long. It was a defenestration of downplayed sleaze, a vandalising of a complete lack of values, a cancelling of our consent to this cocking about with our lives, care, citizenship, rights of protest, and even the wallpaper in our house.

Those 23,412 voters have done what the Covid regulations, £10,000 fines and the Met Police couldn’t. They have removed the pop from the Tory Party, flattened their froth, burst their self-inflated balloon.

They thought they had a leader who could win votes and defy political gravity, no matter how awful he, or they, became. They were wrong. The young, Tory staffers today sadly packing away the festive braces, which for once won’t be getting an outing at the office Christmas bash, are all thinking the same thing: “This must be how it feels to be Laurence Fox.”

It does not matter if the result is not replicated at a general election, or how long that takes. What matters is the pedestal has been tested, and found wanting. A tumble into the river is certain, because there is just one law of political gravity, and it is that all toads must fall.

I’ll raise some toast to that.

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George Holan

George Holan is chief editor at Plainsmen Post and has articles published in many notable publications in the last decade.

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