I’m back in London. Oh this strange and wonderful town. I’m just down the road from one of the major druid schools of the ancient world. Thorney Island. Lost to time.

The wealth and power of Thorney has been almost totally eradicated now, but that little eyot in the original tidal river is still significant. Once upon a time it was home to interesting and thoughtful people. Now the palace of Westminster sits there. What a shame, that so many oblivious people jostle with one another on land that has carried weight for so long. I can’t remember the last time we have seen true depth in an elected politician. Sad empty jumping puppets or frothing hatepots. All these nasty weird little failed humans, all kicking about in Thorney. You’d hope they woke up and realised the extent to which they are all piggies. Nope. Ladies and gentlemen of the British Isles: THESE ARE YOUR LEADERS. *oink* *shuffle shuffle* *blank look*

It’s ok though because apparently the other party did something slightly off key. They didn’t set policy and then make it clear they thought they were different from normal people. But let’s all look askance at them shall we, and overlook the fact that a large portion of people voted for meatfaced lying goitres.

I wish there was still a sacrifice of the high king every third midsummer. Right now we would be together as a community, building a huge wicker Boris. We could easily tempt him in at the right time – just tell him there’s fan mail written by attractive young women. We are currently being led by a twelve year old. He hasn’t evolved. He won’t. Maybe we could learn something by burning him in the old tradition. Or he could ritually tear himself apart like the ancient sumerian kings – throwing his organs with fire to the crowd – gifts of power. They did leadership better back when there were consequences. We made wonderful and deep civilisations out of togetherness and need.

Now we have Boris and his absurd pre-broken puppets. If we want something older we have to look deeper. With these morons, we really have to govern ourselves. It might take time for us to properly mobilise, but the only option is so clear. What are we going to do? Keep being dictated to by a venal berk and his cronies? Let’s call a stop to this. You can do better. Revolution. It’s not such a big ask, is it? Maybe I’m just fed up. The replacement won’t be any better. But when I think of how out of touch the ostrich bitch (Marie a Antoinette) was – it doesn’t even come close to the current crop of horrible little people in the commons, right near to where the old eradicated Thorney Island Druid College sat. Lost to Google. Breathe and believe.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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