I have not written in a while, so the humour might be a bit rough-and-ready over the next few paragraphs; but bear with me. Hopefully you will enjoy...
The UK is at war everyone. Yup I witnessed it myself when our MPs dedicated a full working day to debating the merits of extending the bombing campaign against ISIS, ISIL, IS, Daesh, Dashund, LISIS, ESIS or whatever into Syria. My word what a carry on. Anyone would have thought they were debating whether to launch a nuclear warhead against those pesky Ruskies in the Ukraine such was the fever pitch in da House.
My favourite was Hillary Benn, who sits on the Labour front bench (and yes, is therefore supposed to be against everything that those toffee-nosed Quality streets suggest) and was tasked with wrapping up Labour's side of the argument giving an impassioned speech for Syrian strikes. Uh?
You can just imagine some straggly bearded pimply jihadist from Bradford wearing black (not the most practical colour in a battleground that is mostly light beige and blindingly hot) pyjamas watching proceedings on BBC World Service (yup still beaming live into every sitting room around the world and in a language he understands) on his widescreen TV in his cave in Raqqa shaking his head and saying to his mate:
"Yoh John, what's with these crazy infidels? I'm down with Jezza Corbyn but then your man Benn comes on and stabs him in da back - innit? Let's hope these Sons of Satan are as organised in battle as they are in their own parliament! Allahu Akbar!"
It does feel a bit like a joke. The Yanks and a a few hanger-on nations like France and Canada have flown thousands of sorties against the terrorists with the world's most impractical dress sense and still they have not been dislodged from their hidey-holes throughout both Syria and Iraq. But wait, the Brits are bringing a game-changing piece of ordinance into the fray - it's called the Brimstone missile - and is apparently so accurate that Jihadi John can be taking a dump on the back of 4x4 Toyota while moving at 70 miles per hour and be vaporised without a single scratch coming to his porcelain throne. Now that is a very unlikely scenario (JJ shitting in the back of a bakkie) but it does demonstrate the pinpoint accuracy - and minimal collateral damage - that this missile possesses but is it going to change the shape of this conflict?
Nah. That's up to the 70,000 "opposition" fighters that are ready to take up arms once about a billion brimstones have been fired into the shit-house that is Syria. This rag-tag bunch of Islamists is apparently pro-Western (whatevs!), are ready to embrace democratic values (whatevs!), love thy neighbour (whatevs!) and see the merit in wearing light weight beige cotton overalls (right-on!). It's small comfort that this band of merrily bearded men prefer crucifying people in an upright position as opposed to upside-down like the current incumbents. I mean who is kidding who in all of this?
The whole thing is a complete cluster-fuck excuse my french and no one has a clue how it is all going to end least of all our erstwhile leaders who pontificate from the pulpit of a nation that is so bruised and battered from it's sojurns in Iraq and Afghanistan that it doesn't know whether it is Arthur Daly or Rodney Trotter.
I could make my feelings felt and grow my hair, get a nose-ring, wear a tie-dye t-shirt and join the rent-a-crowd (sorry concerned citizens) lying across the road in front of Parliament wrapped in "Don't bomb Syria" flags, but most people wish someone would just run them over, so that's not a viable option. And in fact I don't oppose the decision parliament has taken but what road is it about to take us down?
And I think that's the scary part of it all. We were on that road way before the Quality Streets battled it out against the Reds in the Commons but unfortunately it's more like a runaway train. We can bemoan it; we can rail against it; we can cuss-and-curse; but we are all on it for the long haul (unless Timbuktu feels like an option - ag shit that's in Mali and they're also overrun by our black clad friends) and there is absolutely nothing we can do about it except "carry on" in the best British tradition and hope that in the end, Good really will triumph over Evil.
Out.