I don’t really follow British politics because why would you. All of the enervating horror of the US show, but without consequence.

I was aware that their PM, who seems a much more colourful version of our recently departed and widely unlamented dropkick, was in trouble for partying through lockdown. But again, the details usually escaped me. I guess it was a bit like pissing off to Hawaii for umbrellas drinks during a mega fire.

Anyway there’s been a report. Or a photo bomb. Or something.

And this bit in The Critic explaining it all is just a lovely, lovely piece of writing, worth a slow lunch time read simply on its own merits.

His presence at the parties, denied for months, was actually something of which he was proud. It had been “one of the essential duties of leadership,” he said. “It didn’t occur to me that this was anything except what it was my duty to do.” Finally, we had got to the truth. He had believed it was his duty to have parties. No wonder his staff had believed it was their duty to drink until they passed out. They had done it all for us!

The fact is, he didn’t actually say, we live in a world that has suitcases of wine, and those bottles need to be opened by people with corkscrews, using words like vintage, covid-secure bar, and wine fridge. He had neither the time nor the inclination to explain himself to people who worked or slept while his team was singing “Sweet Caroline” in the basement. He would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way, or poured yourself a gin and typed out a press release.

It all seems very familiar. Whole thing is here.