Don’t you love a farce? My fault, I fear
I thought that you’d want what I want, sorry my dear
But where are the clowns? Send in the clowns
Don’t bother they’re here…
Stephen Sondheim
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If one reflects on the comings and goings at Westminster over the last 12 months it has been somewhat farcical. This is especially the case because some people have taken it so very seriously, they are so very important.
“There never were any parties. We obeyed all the rules. Honest guv. Pinkie swear.”
“I had a bit of slap and tickle with my aide/mistress and then went on I am a celeb, so people would like me. P.S. thanks for the £400k.”
“Let us give the rich and those {Jodrell} bankers a tax break while the nation starves waiting for the crumbs of caviar to trickle down from the high table…”
“Our brave air force will save us from ET and his UFOs.”
“Clap for carers but don’t give those greedy skiving bastards a pay rise. How dare they put us at risk after we managed the Covid fiasco so very well! All our chums got nice fat cat contracts for PPE.”
“Let us send all our jets to Ukraine…That is a good idea it will halt Russian aggression. {Sending combat aircraft is not a declaration of war in Boris’ mind.}”
—-
On a number of occasions I was asked to do team development courses because the “plebs” were complaining and not doing as they were told. It was obvious to me that in at least one case the root cause was the ridiculous, ill-planned and demanding behaviour of senior staff. They were expecting sudden animal trials at a drop of a hat, when the specially bred line of rats needed weeks of preparation and breeding. Unrealistic demands cannot be met. When I suggested in this case that the Cambridge academics needed training much more than those in the animal house, my wise words were pooh-poohed. Egos are fragile and self-diagnosed omniscience is pandemic.
“Not us we are perfect. It is they; they are not sufficiently flexible to anticipate our whims, telepathically. If only they were better life would be fine. They are the problem!!”
The problem is that when people are caught up in the script of a dramatic farce, they are wholly unaware that they are in fact enacting a farce. This is what makes a farce, so farcical and so funny, the seriousness and commitment to the {pre-written} scripts of the protagonists in the farce. They cannot see beyond the opening and closing doors, along the farcical corridors. They cannot hear the “Benny Hill” music which is an accompaniment.
With perfect comedic timing, they say their lines, deadpan and fully bought into said reality {farce}.
The madness of the dream…
Traou an Dour 
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