Angela’s Italian Hand Itches as PM Changes Shape at Dizzying Speed – Guido Fawkes

This is going to be a painful piece to produce, even given the laxative effect of its subject.

While summoning the courage to address Ed Davey’s modus operandi, it can be noted that Yvette is imploding – her face seems in danger of being sucked down her throat. It hasn’t escaped her that her leader’s Euro-reset is opening her borders to four million war-trauma’d migrants to settle in Red Wall constituencies.

If she feels betrayed, imagine what Rachel feels (she was attending to complaints elsewhere). It seems they aren’t tuss enough after all.

Angela Rayner on the other side of the PM no longer tries to conceal her contempt for the tiny fools around her. Her nose is raised, her eyelids droop, the itch in her fine Italian hand is becoming intolerable.

The stunned front bench must have been told about the Winter Fuel U-Turn and sense that however far and however fast they travel, the ice beneath them is getting ever thinner.

The PM continues his interesting journey. As his carousel spins faster and the supporters who’d come along for the ride are flung off – he himself changes at every moment.

At one angle he is literally Hitler – the carousel turns halfway and he is Hindenburg. All last year he was Clement Attlee – since the inauguration he is becoming Donald Trump. He says things that are so much the flagrant, flaming opposite of the case that it causes a little bark of laughter (“Nigel Farage hasn’t a patriotic bone in his body,” was one from last week).

Today, it was, “The EU deal will bring prices down.”

With climate enthusiasts lobbying for four-fold increases in our “dynamically aligned” carbon price we can expect apocalyptic damage to the working class. He was at one angle Jeremy Corbyn, now he is Mrs Thatcher.

Today, in response to a rather good question by Rupert Lowe, he approved the 31-month sentence for the tweet criminal Lucy Connolly. He was a human rights activist. Now he is Keir Starmer.

An unforgivable Tory used a precious question to beg a meeting with a minister for local government. What depths does politics drive a grown man to! His ticket to this meeting was in the public gallery, with his “mum”. He was a six-year-old boy, “a self-professed eco-warrior on a mission to change the world” by collecting non-recyclable sweet tubs from landfill.

All sane citizens know that the boy would be better employed sweeping chimneys, but mindless of the danger, his mother and teachers are grooming him into political activism. First, it’s sorting rubbish, then it’s a meeting with a local government minister, then it’s climate change, Palestine and – final destination – he transitions into Meghan Markle. Politics is like ketamine – only for the adults in the room.

There was such cooing and warm-hearted chuckling and tickling fingers waved at the little rascal that your correspondent has finally summoned the bile necessary to put Ed Davey in front of your horrified gaze.

It’s one of those confident predictions that hacks like making:

After the shattering of the political system in 2029, Ed Davey has an outside chance of being one of the three short-lived, post-election prime ministers.

He has discerned that the job of Opposition is not to oppose, it is to present his party as the incoming government.

So, he is not antagonistic. He rises, he stands earnestly, he urges the PM to do what he knows the PM really wants to do.

He speaks softly. He speaks with weight. He pauses respectfully. He is the parliamentary arbiter. Sometimes he will agree with the PM, and sometimes disagree. Sometimes he is disappointed.

It is a display of judicious sincerity that has the power to open the sluices of his opponents at both ends – but let it not blind us to the pitch he is making. Tories might not be able to face the horror directly but if it’s said loudly enough, they might catch the echo of it next week.

Conservative MPs know in their hearts they will not form the next government. But what they haven’t considered is they may not be the official opposition. They may be shifted down below the gangway with the Scots Nats, with Plaid, with the DUP, with the Real Reform party, with the new, 18-strong Gaza party of Great Britain.

The gangway is a metre wide, but as a week is a long time in politics, a metre is halfway to the moon.

PS:

A post-PMQs Conservative conversation:

“Kemi did a little better today, didn’t she?”

“Did she? Yes, I suppose she did. Is it too early for a drink?”