Published on February the 28th, 2019.
Caesar:
Who is it in the press that calls on me?
I hear a tongue shriller than all the music
Cry "Caesar!" Speak, Caesar is turn'd to hear.
Soothsayer:
Beware the Ides of March.
Caesar:
What man is that?
Brutus:
A soothsayer bids you beware the Ides of March.
Julius Ceaser, Act 1, Scene 2, by William Shakespeare.
So, March: By the end of this month we should have left the EU, or maybe not. How is it possible we've got this close to Exit Day not knowing if it is actually going to happen? Well you can thank the pathological fixation of Theresa May for that; so intent is she on running down the clock and getting her way
May_bot
May_bot
May_bot
that she's delayed the vote on her 'deal' until the 13th, threatening that if it isn't passed then there will be another 'meaningful vote' on the 14th as to whether to rule out a 'No Deal' Brexit; and if a clean separation is blocked as a result of that, there will be yet another vote the day after on the possibility of a second referendum or the postponement of Article 50 for a 'short' time...
What a utterly fucked up way to run a country as well as implement one of the most significant decisions that will affect the UK for decades to come! But thanks to Mrs Misery's deliberate incompetence, that's where we find ourselves now.
I could write more, but won't for now. Like so many others I'm suffering from Brexit fatigue, though I think I'm getting away lightly compared to some people; someone said to me, "This country has become so miserable! All you hear about is Brexit! It's taken over everyone's lives; it's a they're talking about", while a friend of mine is suffering stress and anxiety as result of it all. In any case, with the situation so fluid - one Brexiteer junior minister has resigned today in protest at May's handling of the issue, calling it a "final national humiliation" - it's impossible to keep up with events. What is clear though, is by the month's end we should know - perhaps - where we stand. There will either be a parliamentary convulsion the like of which has not been seen for decades, or a sullen capitulation to the BRexit In Name Only.
The Roman Ides of March were traditionally the time when the excuses stopped and the debts were paid; whatever decisions are made now, I fear things won't go well.
YOU ARE READING
The Brexit Chronicles
Non-FictionAs the countdown to Brexit unfolds, I'll be adding my thoughts to this diary/journal as I try to make sense of the confusion.
