Tomorrow all this will be history

I suppose that your average Labour Back Bencher (and, let us face it, the word ‘average’ is a considerable kindness) has not read the Treaty of Lisbon. I imagine few would understand it if they did bother. More importantly, neither can they have read any of the various consolidated versions available from various sources.

Had Labour’s Bovine and Ovine troubled themselves to do so, one ought to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that something of the enormity that it represents, in terms of altering for ever and a day the balance of power as between the Parliament of the United Kingdom and the unelected Euro Nabobs and their satraps, would have dawned upon them.

Sadly we are plagued in this regard by the continuing presence in the House of hordes of Blairistas who first entered parliament in 1997. Upon doing so they were issued with a very short manual printed in extra big print entitled “How To Be A Toadying, Bootlicking, Brown-Nosing, Truckling Lickspittle in One Easy Lesson”. This magnificent tome was reissued last year as ‘Brown-Nosing For Beginners’ under the new Prime Minister’s imprimatur.

Beyond the pages of this slim monograph (ed. Alistair Campbell) no requirement of independent, free thought is made of these dim and dozy dunderhead dipsticks, the only obligation being to follow the leader upon pain of application of the bolt gun.

These numpties have not appreciated what the effect of the Treaty of Rome is. Had they done so they might have appreciated for a moment what boobies they are. Instead they opened their beaks and swallowed the semi-digested macerated regurgitation of that deeply Europoxed coterie of Miliband, Murphy, McShane (né Matyjaszek), Vaz and their ilk and will, within the day, troop through the lobbies unashamedly pleased that as they do so they are consigning a thousand years of history to the land-fill of history.

That they should be doing so for the selfish, narrow-minded, hidebound partisan purposes of avoiding defeat at the hands of the electorate rather than out of any grand point of principle makes their act of dishonest and dishonourable perfidiousness all the more shameful. But this they cannot, will not acknowledge.

All that matters is putting one over on the Tories and when they have done so, in what they perceive to be yet another glorious victory in the great class war, they will sneak away sniggering from the Parliament which they have just turned into a pumpkin.

For them and their feckless accomplices the Lib ‘Dems’, however, will come a time soon when their perfidy comes home to roost as the nature of the power which we have ceded to foreigners who bear no love for Britain and who would now order our every doing becomes crystal clear.

Then they might for a moment contemplate Quatrain 51 of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

Or, to put it another way, the mark of Cain will forever be upon them, the cause whereof we can neither forget nor forgive.

And surely one day they will be called to account whereupon there will be a day of reckoning for those who so casually sold us for no more than the mess of pottage that is an easy life.