Time for Brexit - or not?

Time for Brexit- or not?

So here we are at the business end of Brexit and still we wonder and ponder, arguing and then  hurtling towards a cul-de-sac from which there can be no easy escape. None of us are any the wiser than we were three years ago when this whole political freak show started in earnest. You begin to imagine what that great wit, humorist, wordsmith and bon viveur Oscar Wilde would have made of this pathetic charade. To lose three successive votes in the way that Theresa May did some months back looks like carelessness. Then again we could be accused of wildly misquoting the ever lyrical Irish playwright and novelist.

The fact of the matter is that we are now 10 days away from the leaving date which takes Britain out of the EU and after innumerable advertising campaigns and almost saturation media coverage the future destiny of the UK has never been in more doubt. Its soured relations with the whole machinery of the EU bureaucratic network remain one of the hottest potatoes in recent political history.

Over the weekend the House of Commons did a rare spot of overtime when they all convened for another session of nattering, chattering, waving papers in the air, jumping up and down as if on hot coals and then realising that they were just parroting something they'd said a thousand times before. They stood up and sat down, loudly competing for attention and then told to keep quiet by the speaker of the House John Bercow. Then they retired for the day and some of us were more perplexed than ever before.

Did the Prime Minister really win permission to pursue his EU withdrawal agreement and had he finally got through to the stubborn naysayers who kept sniping at him for just being Boris Johnson? For once there was an overwhelming agreement in the air and we were entitled to believe that finally we were reaching the end of a very long road. But hold on the DUP, our Irish friends, were still in uproar. What about  us? We've been criminally overlooked in this vast European discussion where nobody wins any brownie points and the only winners are the people who think they've won.

There are of course formidable obstacles in our way. The truth is that on the 31st October we will almost certainly be leaving the European Union with or without a deal. Now the bone of contention here is that it could go desperately wrong on the day and we could end up at square one again which is no good for any of us. The experts will tell us that this one news agenda could drag on interminably and we'll all regret the invention of the TV and radio.

Today the |Speaker of the House John Bercow once again demanded civility and propriety with the dearest wish that somehow between now and the end of the month heads will be bashed together, Boris Johnson will stop swivelling his body menacingly, turning his head to one side and then thrusting his arm at his Labour adversary Jeremy Corbyn as if not sure what to do or say that will satisfy anybody in the House. Then Johnson started flailing his fingers at Corbyn in much the way a child would accuse another of stealing their conkers.

We are now in counter productive, nobody wins anything territory where the only result is a stalemate. There is a great deal of overly boisterous shouting and unnecessary jaw jawing going on, the kind of sound that reminds you of one of those huge ghetto blasters you used to see in London parks during the 1980s. Everything is becoming unbearably inconsequential, the most tempestuous bear pit you've ever heard or seen. The language is simply more gobbledygook, more drivel, linguistic madness and the strangulation of the English language we've always cherished.

The latest subjects to be both translated and just made so much plainer to the English speaking world are the Customs Union, the Irish borders, the World Trade Organisation and whether we should simply tell the rest of Europe to sling their hook and never darken our corridors again. At times it almost feels as if somebody is drilling the most annoying pneumatic drill through our heads remorselessly.

Then our attention is drawn back to those stupid, collective terms for those seasoned campaigners who are still unsure which way to go. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Brexiteers are still around us and they'll never go away until you give them a copy of the Times but certainly not the European for their further reading pleasure. There can be no doubt that for the moment we're just going around in circles and the sooner somebody raises their head above the parapet saying  something reasoned and sensible the better it will be for all of us. We will sigh with immense relief and gratitude. We will shake their hands and, quite possibly, buy them a drink.

For now the scenes outside the House of Commons are indescribably bizarre. Westminster is a sea of Union Jacks, the allegedly loathsome EU flags, a gentleman who sounds remarkably like a town crier, a very anguished population of Londoners and who ever else wants to join in. There are small knots of TV reporters and flashing cameras determined to capture something that their viewers or listeners will always remember them by.

The tragedy of course that we could be detained here for several generations and for those who may be pleading for a resolution, there can only be deep sympathy and repeated requests for time and patience. But time is running out and a vast majority of us will be willing the result to go in our favour- whatever the result may be. Of course we'll all be biting our finger nails with anticipation as if they haven't taken enough punishment.

And so we find ourselves on the brink, teetering on the edge, hoping against hope but not really knowing why. The public think they want a second referendum because nobody told them what on earth those politicians were talking about after the first one. As far as they were concerned the result may just as well have been a score draw and fully deserving of a replay at Anfield. There have been screaming matches and slanging matches on the BBC's Question Time, childish petulance on the panel, accusation and counter accusation, threatening finger jabbing, endless statistics and a public who have just had enough of this all. Maybe, just maybe we should have another General Election. Now that would be fun. We can't wait. It's time for another session of yawning.