Dominic Cummings a loose cannon, genuine asset or is he going? The latest Covid 19 bulletin.

Dominic Cummings- a loose cannon, genuine asset or is he going? The latest Covid 19 bulletin.

Scandal and controversy stalk the corridors of Westminster. What a palaver! What a disgrace! Send that man to the Tower of London, off with his head and dig out that guillotine. This man should be excommunicated, driven out of office and kicked unceremoniously out of the country. He should fall on his sword, never be allowed to hold any kind of high profile position and exalted role in the Tory government cabinet.

Heads will roll and his days as aide and adviser to Boris Johnson's top table of politicians are now numbered. Or so it would have seemed. But yesterday Dominic Cummings got out of jail without any blemishes on his career and, to all outward appearances, innocent and absolved of all blame. After all the woes, tears, heartache and suffering that have spread across the world during the last two months or so Dominic Cummings was given the benefit of the doubt. He did so because some kind of strange political immunity had rendered him clear of all charges. It wasn't my fault governor.

But here's the point. The latest politician to be dragged through the mud, tarnished by association and branded a blundering fool, is smiling like the proverbial Cheshire cat and grinning from ear to ear as if that bank robbery had nothing to do with him. Cummings was caught off guard and tried to sneak away from the scene of the crime as if the incident had nothing to do with him. There is something about the whole maddening, madcap world of politics that fails to make any sense at all. There is an underlying current of naivety, arrogance and rank stupidity that seems to follow everybody who walks into the House of Comedy. Or should that be the House of Commons.

Over the weekend though Dominic Cummings emerged blinking into the sunlight from his home and seemed mightily offended that everybody was fuming, boiling over with resentment and ready to bay for his blood. Cummings had broken every law in every legal tome known to mankind, he'd stumbled blindly into a honeytrap of his own making and thought he'd got away with murder. His crime was simple but for a man who should have known better this was just a complete embarrassment.

And yet Cummings, dressed in loose T-shirt and perhaps more suited to a game of basketball in the park with his Westminster colleagues, just dismissed the cameras and prying microphones rather like a man who thought people were genuinely invading his privacy. In fact he was furious, incandescent with rage, frothing at the mouth because nobody could prove anything and besides where are the fingerprints? He didn't do anything wrong and that's final. Get out of my way! The hands were providing a complete defensive mechanism, fingers pushing away the accusers with righteous indignation.

In those final few moments before driving off in a huff, Dominic Cummings performed like a man who'd never been anywhere near a place where he shouldn't have been. If a court of law had proven that he was guilty then where was the incriminating evidence? Go on, where are the facts, the truth, the documentary proof? How could they pin anything on him? He hadn't perpetrated any sin or wrongdoing so he'd be grateful if you could please let him get on with his Sunday. And so the day continued.

The fact is though - and it looks to be as clear as yesterday's blue early summer day- that Cummings had broken the very law of the land that his government had implemented only months before. He'd travelled up to the North East in Durham to visit his family when we all know of course that Boris, his colleague and Prime Minister on the front bench, had implicity told him not to if only because Covid 19 made it abundantly clear that everybody in both Britain should have been self isolating, staying safe and staying at home.

Now there are times throughout any government's tenure of life when maybe they should listen to logical advice, toe the party line and just obey the laws of the land. It all seemed to be going swimmingly well for Labour Prime Minister Tony Blair until the Iraq war left him in a crumpled heap on the floor. Education, Education, Education reminded you of a stuck needle on a record.

For the fairly new incumbent as Prime Minister Boris Johnson this year should have been his honeymoon period, a purple patch, a time for forward planning, radical thinking and just being free to breathe the rarefied air of a man who'd just pulled the lid off the sweet jar. It was all there waiting for him, loads of positivity, major progress on the Brexit agreement and by the end of the year, Britain would be floating on a sea of affluence, away from all those wicked old, interfering European Union busybodies with their officious airs and pompous graces.

But oh no there had to be something, the fly in the ointment, the ultimate spoiler. Who'd have believed it possible after all those years of wrangling, bickering, procrastinating, waffling, double speaking, blah, blah blah! He'd thought he'd seen the back of those problematic complications, the long, wearisome hours, weeks and months of bitter warfare, confrontational politicking, going red in the face, getting all hot and bothered about piffle, jargon, nonsense and just shouting for no apparent reason.

It was all too much for many of us but to others just a warped thrill because we do love a good, old fashioned bust up, a row over the garden fence, a big, meaty altercation where compromise is the last thing on anybody's mind. So when somebody mentioned 2020 and another year in his life, Boris Johnson just jumped up in the air with joy and wondered whether he could just have a peaceful New Year without any troubles. It would not be that though and here we are at the end of May and the demons are out to get Boris Johnson. We're going to haunt you my friend and you'd be well advised to get used to this way of life.

Come the end of February and then properly March Johnson was suddenly spiralling out of control, drowning in a sea of nightmares and waking up in cold sweats during the night. Within the first couple of weeks of March, Johnson was metaphorically up to his neck in water, waves devouring him and dragging him under. Suddenly, a couple of passengers aboard a Chinese cruise vessel had been quarantined and tested for an unheard of disease known as coronavirus and the rest is too hard to talk  about anymore.

What then followed was the stuff of calamity, worldwide panic and emergency, a deadly disease that was killing hundreds, then thousands and then millions of innocent people. Then it got worse and worse and now we can only look at all of our media and social media outlets with renewed disbelief. Now you'd have thought the last thing one of Boris Johnson's friends wanted was some village idiot type to spoil his weekend but he got it and for a minute or two you privately hoped that Johnson would do the decent thing and just give him the sack, the heave ho, go now and don't come back.

Yesterday though Johnson stood outside 10 Downing Street without any resemblance to the Worzel Gummidge look he'd assumed a couple of days beforehand and shot from the hip. He stated his case, jumped to the defence of Cummings and explained that he wasn't particularly bothered about what had happened because essentially Dominic Cummings hadn't really done anything drastically wrong.

Cummings told us that he simply wanted to travel back to Durham to see his family and that when he got there he'd just speak to his family from the bathroom if it made people any happier. He'd keep well away from his loved ones, shout downstairs to them by way of communication and then use a tannoy system to make himself even clearer. Nobody should panic but Cummings had this one all worked out. But oh no Cummings had to sit down with his family, making pleasant conversation over tea and biscuits and then sitting down next to his family over Sunday lunch with a nice roast for good measure.

Meanwhile, back in Westminster where Cummings should have been all the time, members of the Tory party were seeing red. This was nothing but the most deplorable indiscretion ever committed by any politician, a hanging offence nay less. Accusations of vile hypocrisy, dim wittedness, ignorance and plain insubordination should be rightly levelled at him and the sooner the better.

Sadly though Prime Minister Johnson missed a sitter from close range, an open goal. He didn't seize the day and the moment had passed as quickly as it had come. According to Johnson, Cummings remains a man of fine, upstanding principles, accurate judgement and honour. And yet the whole nation are up in arms because this is quite clearly not what the Prime Minister should have said. He should have told Cummings to sling his hook, exit the back door and get out of town.

And so the nation rubs its eyes again, yearns for something to cling onto by way of salvation, somebody to guide them through these anguished days, weeks and months. All they can find is some circus clown who just loves to fall over, run around the ring with a red nose and then insult the intelligence of everybody around him.

Several less than flattering expletives should be on their way to Cummings but perhaps he knew that was inevitable anyway. So Dominic Cummings here's an easy to understand warning. The next time you come out of your house and fold a bike into a car boot be sure you do it when the coast is clear and there's nobody around. The chances are that you'll be exposed to the eyes of Britain, humiliated, questioned relentlessly and then reprimanded by huge sections of society who then attack you for doing something morally incorrect and plainly daft. Make sure you don't do it again Cummings otherwise Boris Johnson may not be quite as forgiving. Now turn off the light and go to bed. Let that be the last time we tell you not to misbehave.