Mr Johnson's bombast (originally a name for cotton wool - commonly used to pad codpieces) is becoming less amusing. His recent serving of blancmange in The Daily Telegraph was heavy on slogans and light on analysis, it contained tired old chestnuts (£350m, NHS, etc) and empty optimism. Worse, he says all those who warn of bumps in the road to Brexit "lack confidence in Britain" - in "great, global, trading Britain".
It seems odd that people who want to ensure we get the best deal, who are spotting the pitfalls before we fall into them, who understand that negotiations have to be two-sided, that these are the ones who lack confidence.
It is the blowhards who lack confidence. The salesmen who talk up their product without giving us specifics, trying to sell us something they don't believe in. Mr Johnson wants us to run helter-skelter towards Brexit while keeping our eyes on the sunny uplands wavering in the haze ahead. For him it is unpatriotic to keep an eye on our feet as we negotiate the winding, potholed route.
If we never look down we won't even see the cliff edge until we are already over it. This may be what he now wants, aiming to undermine Mrs May by publishing just before she announces her own approach to Brexit. Or he may simply be trying to escape the consequences of his own actions.
Mrs May's Foreign Secretary is trumpeting a charge that she will have to lead, while he shelters behind the lines. She is to gallop forth with her lieutenants David "[the cards are] incredibly stacked our way" Davis and Liam "one of the easiest [trade deals] in human history" Fox riding beside her, blind to the cannon to the left, the right and ahead.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do & die.
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