Theresa May

Source: Bigstock

I was busy explaining why the election was not a disaster to a 23-year-old American girl by the name of Jennifer. She is a Spectator reader and wants to work in England, preferably in politics. She called the results the worst news since her father abandoned her mother. I begged to differ. Actually, it was a far better result than if the Conservatives had won a plurality of 100, I told her. She gasped with disbelief, but soon enough she was hooked.

Do not be alarmed, dear readers, I have not taken LSD, nor am I suffering from populist-nationalist rage at global elites and starting to hallucinate. No, I just read a piece in The New York Times by an ignoramus who said that Britain’s voyage to inglorious isolation is due because the Brits did not listen to people like Heath and Wilson, who took Britain into Europe. What would we do without such fools writing such drivel? Heath and Wilson, God help us.

The reason I was pleased with the results was mainly because I never trusted Saint Theresa but do trust the DUP. My other reason is that when lefties cry that plans to crack down on Islamic extremism raise worries about rights, I know that soft Conservatives will fold quicker than you can say “coward.” Not the DUP, however, whose enemies call it bigoted, xenophobic, isolationist, and other such goodies. Oh yes, it also opposes tranny bathrooms and same-sex marriage. See what I mean about the election being a great victory for those of us who still have healthy beliefs and healthier lifestyles? (Along with a drink or two, or three.) Who wants the British to end up like the Americans, people too scared to utter certain truths about race and gender?

So screw you, wet ones—if there is a coalition of the Conservatives and the DUP, we never had it so good. Yippee! And now for more good news: The left-wing media in America have flown into a quasipsychotic rage over Russian interference during the last election. The fact that it never happened and was invented by the Deep State is neither here nor there. The ignorant among us believe it to be true. Putin is now looked upon as the main culprit for the Trump victory, in fact the adjectives used against him are far worse than any against the Führer before war was declared. Much worse. They don’t even call him Herr Putin, in the manner British politicians referred to Herr Hitler.

Never mind. My new buddy Oliver Stone has come to the rescue. It happened one night when my close friend Michael Mailer seated me near Oliver about ten years ago. The director and I were not only not on speaking terms, I had publicly announced that if he ever crossed my path I’d hit him so hard he’d have to look up to tie his shoelace. Well, beware of answered prayers. During an event honoring Norman Mailer, I stood up and faced Oliver Stone and told him that I had switched sides—after the Iraq disaster—and agreed with him on everything, including cheating on one’s wife, which he and I had always agreed on.