Well, it's all over, even the shouting. Brown is gone, Nick and Dave are having a love-in at Number 10 and I am surprisingly calm about it all.
Strange bedfellows indeed and I'm sure there are more than a few party hacks wondering exactly what was in the Kool-Aid which allowed these two warring factions from the Right and Left to slip so smoothly into the sack.
The Deal is public, all 12 pages of it. There's been a lot of give and take: we don't get the Euro or ID cards and immigrants, legal and otherwise, continue to be the national punching bag. To prove that England still has a big dick, Trident is a go but Heathrow will have to keep standing on two legs instead of three.
Fiscal knives are being sharpened and within 50 days we are to have an emergency budget. It looks like only the NHS and the MOD get to retract their necks. I hope all you breeders have not become too attached to tax-breaks for daycare because somebody just painted a bulls-eye on it.
We all know the cuts are coming but the one that will hurt the least is for that ludicrous money pit with a dreadful logo called The 2012 London Olympics. Although the government hasn't specifically said that Olympic funding will be scaled back, they have said that it "is not protected." I live in hope.
God no longer rains fire on wicked cities, now he sends the Olympics. Montreal, Sydney, Turin and Vancouver have all paid a dear price for the "privilege" of hosting this two-week steroid fest. In Athens the streets are burning because the country is in economic free-fall brought about in no small way because they hosted the games in 2004.
I'll write a full post on the absurdity that is the Olympics later. The shops are closing and food needs to be gathered.
This new government we have in the UK: as cynical as I am, as liberal as I am, I think we should give them a chance. We should also be thankful that the Tories, unlike their Republican counterparts across the ocean, are not totally bat-shit crazy.
Yet.
