See You Next Tuesday, Mr. Hunt

 

A postcard from me olidee.

Dear blog readers,

The sun is shining, the bird is on the wing, and I spent a large part of yesterday afternoon playing crazy golf and drinking cocktails on the roof of a car park in Stratford (London) with good friends and mad children. The rest of this week will be spent making similar memories to shore up against my ruin.

Love from Mrs. Boo

Back in the real world:

With all my in depth political analysis of Theresa’s cabinet last week I forgot to mention dear old Jeremy Cockney Rhyming Slang Hunt.

I think, to be honest, this was a bit of unconscious deletion on my part. Having spent much of this year campaigning on NHS matters, I have had to spend a great deal of time thinking about him, and it has never proved either fruitful or pleasant. If Jeremy spent as much time in his role as the Health Secretary doing things, as he does trying to avoid doing things, our NHS would make that widdleewee thing that they fix everyone on Star Trek with, look completely outdated. He is, to my mind, the single worst thing to have happened to the NHS in its entire history. That includes the invention of that weird, pinky grey paint that it seems compulsory to paint hospital corridors with, San Izal toilet paper and split back nighties.

It was widely reported last week that Jeremy had been given his marching orders, at which news, all but the most rabidly hallucinogenic sections of our society let out a heartfelt sigh of relief. I have read somewhere that even minions in his own department understood it to be true, to the point where they cleared his desk.

This was not a difficult job. It was mostly dust, a few horcruxes in the shape of furry gonks wearing comedy scrubs and a photograph of Jeremy, straddling the weeping figure of a neurosurgeon, both thumbs aloft, wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the legend; ‘You don’t have to be mad to work here, but it helps’.

Even Jeremy thought he’d been sacked, but managed to actually climb out from under his bed long enough to be reassured he was still going to have the onerous job of ruining one of the few institutions we have left that still make us the envy of the world. He fears daylight but in a shady corner of the cabinet office managed to tweet, ‘rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,’ much to the disappointment of everyone but Louise Mensch, before crawling back amongst the dust bunnies to play Top Trumps with his imaginary friend, Charlie from Casualty, who told him he’s doing a great job and to carry on and not let the nasty people shout at him, because all the fictional doctors love him, even if the real ones don’t.

Since then he’s announced he’s going to force all junior doctors to accept his new contract and had a meeting in parliament about how much more of the NHS the government can privatise under the noses of the public before they start to get restless and figure out that the table cloth has been being pulled out from under the tea set for months, in the biggest con trick ever played on them.

Naturally Jeremy was not at the meetings. Charlie told him he didn’t have to go, because he’d probably find all the excitement a bit much for him. He sent his deputy instead.

It’s a unicorn.

A more common creature to spot in the Houses of Parliament than Jeremy these days.

17 responses to “See You Next Tuesday, Mr. Hunt

  1. Some one had to say it and call a spade a spade. Could we start a petition for Obama as PM?

    Sent from my iPhone

  2. How is it possible that this man retained his cabinet post when all around him were turning to dust? What is going on?

  3. smerlinchesters

    “He is, to my mind, the single worst thing to have happened to the NHS in its entire history”. To mine too, he singlehandedly destroyed the whole healthcare system in Cumbria, in less than 4 years. He’s a legend here, but not of the good sort….. Right about privatisation too, up in the North you either have a private health insurance or you risk being butchered on your way to Carlisle, Hexham or Newcastle…..

    • Leicester, where we live is disintegrating rapidly in terms of NHS provision. Not that a lot of people want to see it.

      • smerlinchesters

        Yes, I did read about it when I was there two weeks ago. However, I don’t think it compares to our situation where we’re just left with prayers and hope. For an ‘urgent’ tooth extraction I had to wait 6 months and then my husband had to take half a day off from work to drive me back and forth from main hospital, a 120-mile round trip. When I got there, I had to be informed my appointment has been cancelled and only because a kind nurse was there (and available to speak to a dentist!), I actually had my tooth extracted. And this was a non-life-threatening situation. A few people have not been this lucky and have died as a consequence of this disastrous management. Then they wonder why people without means (read private insurances!) do not move to Cumbria.

      • That is terrible.

  4. Gillian Cleave

    The junior doctors hate him. Most of the NHS staff hate him. Vast swathes of the public (at least anyone who truly cares about the NHS) hate him, so why an earth did she not get rid of him and make a fresh start? May be it is all such a mess she is hoping he will just finally disappear down the huge hole he has dug himself?

  5. Dear Katy, I hope you have a great holiday, you deserve it. In fact I think you should get some kind of grant for your blog, as it is performing a much needed public service. I’ve just caught up with last week’s posts, as we have been away, and realised what a benefit it is to be able to hang out (metaphorically speaking) with like minded people. We spent a weekend in Bristol with my daughter and a risky five days in Cornwall, the risk being that if confronted by any locals I would spontaneously yell ‘what the fuck were you thinking?!’ at them. We agreed in advance that my partner would just claim I had tourette’s if necessary, but as we were staying on a remote headland where birds outnumbered inhabitants by about 1,000 to 1 and mostly visited picturesque fishing villages and National Trust properties I wasn’t in danger of seeing many locals. Even the NT guides seemed to have been imported from the home counties. I did come close to throwing something at a couple who were ruining the most expensive fish and chips I’ve ever eaten, on the terrace of a hotel allegedly owned by Alex Polizzi, but that was because they were raging snobs grilling the hapless waiter on which peasant trod the grapes of the wine they were considering to accompany their lobster (which was roughly the price of a small car). I can’t blame Brexit for that, just middle aged intolerance of pretentious twats.
    So sad to see that the funeral of one of the few people to enter politics from a genuine desire to help others rather than themselves, was largely overshadowed by the ludicrous antics of people not fit to clean her shoes. Particularly upsetting if that bastard Banks does create a UKIP on steroids, as it will undoubtedly be promoting the kind of intolerance that contributed to her murder.
    If they call an election any time soon I will be voting for The Monster Raving Loony Party – if they haven’t sold out and amalgamated with what’s left of the Labour party that is….

    • I too have that middle aged intolerance thing in spades!

    • smerlinchesters

      We were in Cornwall for one week in April, I wasn’t surprised they voted leave at all. It seems like there’s a big divide in Cornwall, between rich and poor, a bit like we have in Cumbria between who live in the Lake District and who’s out of the National Park. The difference between Cornwall and Cumbria is that many live in the Lake District all year around where in Cornwall many houses were still shut in April, which makes me think the majority are holiday homes. Contrarily to other areas, I think Cornish locals did a protest vote without even thinking that their financial help was all coming from the EU. Oh well, they can always beg at some corner full of Londoners during the summer……..

    • Gillian Cleave

      I live in Cornwall, almost as far west as you can go. I and 90% of my friends voted to remain. Unfortunately many of those who voted to leave thought they had nothing to lose. Life is tough down here for many: very few jobs and even fewer well paid. The saddest thing is that these are the very people who will suffer as Cornwall has been one of the regions that has most benefitted by being in the EU! A little less of a sneering tone would be appreciated please Gerry.

      • Hi Gillian, I only just saw your comment or I would have replied sooner. Sorry if I seemed to be sneering, I absolutely agree with all your points and it was my frustration with the situation that would have prompted an outburst, not a desire to belittle anyone. As I said, I would have had very little opportunity to discuss matters with anyone directly concerned anyway, as they can’t afford to live in the upmarket fishing villages and beauty spots we visited. The couple who really irritated me were shining examples of the privileged people who have bought up all the property and made it impossible for them to do so.
        However, your comment was a timely reminder that just because the pro Brexit media declares somewhere voted leave by a ‘majority’ in reality most of them were far from overwhelming. I’m starting to feel that the 48% are being airbrushed out of the equation. I also have to keep reminding myself that many people, not just the Cornish, felt that things could not get any worse and ‘project fear’ backfired badly because threatening a melt down of financial markets was about as relevant to them as a worldwide caviar shortage. It is as unfair to blame them for voting for change as it is for brexiters to blame the EU for all the social/economic injustice in Britain.
        Regards Gerry.

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