Danny K & The Haters; Here’s my Small Axe

Danny K & the Haters, sounds like a belligerent rockabilly band, but it’s not, it’s far more shameful than that. Devizes and District MP Danny Kruger turned his back on his constituents this week, labelling them “haters,” in order to brown-tongue the effortlessly-reasoned worst Prime Minister in English history. And guess how many people asked me for my opinion? No one, but I’m going to give it anyway….

You should know by now I’m the political equivalent of “Catchphrase,” not the most intelligent of TV game shows; I just say what I see. That’s worth mentioning here, I feel, as this is not a red or blue thing, this applies probably more to Conservative supporters; any gram of reputation your party once had, is at stake, hanging by a thread. I’d thought you’d want to do something about that, or are you Starship-confident, and nothings gonna to stop you now?

Here’s my small axe. Though the desperate defence over party-gate for our tin-pot-dictator-in-clown-disguise devotees often seems to be: there’s more important things to deal with, and we should move on; that’s all they’ve got on this one and it’s as shallow as the liars in Parliament themselves. Yes, there are more important things to deal with, 99.9% of them have been caused by the shit-show we like to call a government, and yes, we should move on, oust the prime minister, rid parliament of his yes-men cabinet, and we can do exactly that.

How absolutely sick and twisted do you have to be to attempt to push this one under the carpet? How dishonourable of all those who died, least suffered from the pandemic, how insolent for NHS staff who risked their lives, to suggest they too partied, when anyone who’s ever done a day’s work of manual labour would know how hard those doctors and nurses were pushed, the endgame of which would not be partying, rather slump on the sofa out of exhaustion, waiting for the next morning to arrive to do it all again.

How utterly disrespectful to us all, all key workers, everyone who self-isolated, obeying the regulations they set out, everyone who has lost their business, least worked tenfold to get it back online. This is apolitical, this is social contempt on a national scale, and those who abused it, those in responsibility who laughed in our faces, and celebrated their own profits made by stamping their boots on our faces, to criticise that, to pass comment this might’ve been a tad unfair and Danny Kruger labels you as a “hater,” your own member of parliament who you pay for, the one who’s supposed to work for you.

I’m sorry Danny, you had me for a while, and despite being a tory, I’d figured you had an angle, you warranted some praise, but to defend the Prime Minister on this is to disrespect your constituencies, and you should, like the rest of the Etonian flunkies, resign too; clear-out the clutter of this toxic workplace.

“I want to speak in defence of the Prime Minister,” he waffled, “because somebody has to.” No, Danny, that’s the point; they don’t. He’s a big boy now, part of any top brass job is accepting responsibility.

The logic behind his comments is comradeship, an amity drummed into every public schoolboy that you never call out a fellow scholar, no matter what. This is why Bojo himself happily handed the address of a journalist investigating a school chum fiddling his taxes, to have him beaten up. Boris Johnson, the Bullingdon ringleader who drunkenly trashed priceless art in Oxford’s Magdalen College; the anarchy of the elite, knowing producing a chequebook would waiver whatever destruction they caused. He’s now controlling the country, and you Danny, equivocated in your articulated manner, “if he lied to this house of course he should resign. But he didn’t. Patently he didn’t. Patently he didn’t break the law deliberately, and so patently he didn’t deliberately mislead this house.”

Everything Boris utters is one big continuous lie, he’s compulsive, but that’s beside the point, the point is they partied on while the rest of obeyed the rules they set out. He stood there, on the TV and announced the rules himself, how can you possibly suggest he was unaware of them? He broke the law, deliberately, he assumes he’s Michael Knight, operating above the law, probably mumbles the car’s sound when he’s on his potty.

Danny continued to propose an apology would suffice in his opinion, like Parliament is a nursery and Bojo is but a toddler. He’s 57 for crying out loud, and runs a country, when is he expected to be grownup enough to take a little responsibility?

But the grand finale of Danny’s whimper was on his constituencies who have written to him in outrage. “Many are just the usual haters who have always despised the Prime Minister,” he said, he actually said this, as if there’s absolutely no grounds in which to criticise the actions, or inactions of Bojo. This is without doubt the most hurtful accusation of all, the hate comes from the other way around, me old shagger, the hate is what Boris Johnson showed to all who suffered, died or even those who escaped the pandemic but obeyed the rules, and that means he is so obviously unsuitable as a prime minster, a role which involves caring, not hating.

It’s no walk in the park, prime ministering, it’s an arduous task, a role which needs intelligence, honour and integrity and likeable as the clown is, he ticks none of those boxes. Which is unfortunate, but see the sum of all the scandals and catastrophes, the daily newsfeed of deception and dishonour, multiply them by the state they made of the country, the hyperinflation, condoned prejudice, the failed ideas and projects, the poverty divide; it is not a case of if he lied to the house on this particular occasion, or not, it is the sum of all these parts and many more. If you can mince your words, Mr Kruger, so I believe I have the right too, and you’re confusing hate for a righteous desperate plea; rid parliament of the deadwood, do yourself a favour.