Or maybe he is mainlining fentanyl for breakfast, to dull the pain of the worms wrapped around his grey and twitching brain.
When I look at the man I see nothing.
There he is, in all of his PR photos, his dull and dark eyes exuding all the life and spark
of a electric shock therapy patient who can no longer even recognise the face of the nurse that spoon feeds him his porridge every morning. Laced with Fentanyl.
Two weeks ago this placidly gullible and Brylcreemed cardboard cut out of 1950's BBC health and safety film
attempted to rebrand himself....just like you would after winning some kind of an election.
Like the one he had just won....six months previously.
Last week he sacked members of his own party for going against the party whip, following the calling of their consciences
by voting AGAINST a Tory bill that sought to legalise use of torture abroad, rather than abstain as everyone was told to do.
Voting against the bill wouldn't have prevented it going through, not with the Conservatives majority, but it would have at least, symbolically, shown
a united front against a vindictive and far right government. He then leaked those sackings to the notorious Twitter account Guido Fawkes, a sycophantic far right outfit, run by a ex BNP tax avoider.
It was a pretty pathetic and sickening sight, applauded by every
right wing mainstream outfit that he seeks to appease, while giddily pissing in the face of the party members he is supposed to represent. In that his arrogance, and belief in his own singular vision, was exposed as the delusional fevered dream
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