How times have changed, eh? Last time around the General Strike was about blokes called Bert and Alf and their struggles to stop their children from starving. Now it’s all to do with people called Jolyon – presumably Tristan and Jocasta as well – and their desire to keep their windmill restoration grants or summat.
No, really, Jolyon’s got his groove on:
The people should rise up in defence of federasts everywhere:
[perfectpullquote align=”full” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]The people can prevent a no-deal Brexit – with a general strikeJolyon Maugham[/perfectpullquote]
It’s such a call to arms, isn’t it?
[perfectpullquote align=”full” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]Not in the referendum and not in parliament. Does this defining political event of our lifetimes need no mandate? Is there nothing we can do to stop it? Do we have nothing left but petitions and marches with the faithful?[/perfectpullquote]Rise up, rise up, to defend straight bananas.
[perfectpullquote align=”full” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””] If the government will not listen, if it refuses to recognise the supremacy of parliament, we must have a general strike. • Jolyon Maugham QC is a barrister and director of the Good Law Project [/perfectpullquote]General strikes really just aren’t led by people called Jolyon, are they?
There may well be a general strike over Brexit, but it’ll be the other way around. Every actual worker I’ve talked to — that is, the people who do the real work, and not just the ponces sitting about in plush offices — have been rabidly pro-Brexit.
Imagine if barristers went on strike. I don’t know if we all wouldn’t be swept away by waves of indifference.
VROOMFONDEL: You’ll have a national philosopher’s strike on your hands.
DEEP THOUGHT: Whom will that inconvenience?
H2G2, natch.
I recently acquired the most recent version of a ‘remastered’ Beggars Banquet. Takes me back to when I was a brain-dead teenager. As soon as the opening chords/drum beat of Street Fighting Man leapt from the motor’s eight speakers (cranked up to a zillion decibels) I was transformed into the very same BDT. Back then we relieved our frustrations/youthful exuberance on football terraces.
Hard decision as to who is the larger prick – Jolyon or the boy Jones.
Tarquin and Jocaster up in arms at losing their chalet jobs in Austria.