If Boris Johnson does not save Geronimo the alpaca then the man finally loses his touch

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What good, frankly, is the interest of a cynical, opportunist and half-hearted prime minister, if not to spare the life of a doomed alpaca?

Today (Friday) would be the last day of Geronimo’s life, at Alpaca Power stud farm in Gloucestershire, barring a last minute intervention that could still prevent him from being executed to prevent him from spreading a disease that he probably does not have.

Geronimo owner Helen Macdonald is on Today’s front page Sun, claiming that she will “take a bullet” for Geronimo, although it does not appear that Defra is considering this as an option.

Geronimo first tested positive for bovine tuberculosis four years ago. He has since tested positive again, although the validity of those results is compromised by the indisputable fact that – at least at the time of writing – Geronimo is not dead.

Macdonald went to the High Court to explain that alpacas with tuberculosis “die very quickly.” Government lawyers, meanwhile, have argued that tuberculosis in alpacas “can take years to manifest as physical symptoms.”

In scenes a little more self-ironic than those of Joseph Heller Catch 22, or the floating and sinking of medieval witches, it currently seems that the only way to determine whether or not Geronimo has tuberculosis will be by post-mortem, in which case it would arguably be too late.

Of what one can only ask: what the hell is the Prime Minister doing? Remember this is a man who looks like he’s spending £ 250million on a ‘royal yacht’ that the Royal Family don’t really want, just so that the The telegraph of the day could stop writing about it.

Although he had absolutely no interest in football (which is absolutely not a crime and more politicians should have the courage to try it), he correctly saw which way the hurricane was blowing on the European Super League and played, at least in terms of publicity, a vaguely decisive role in putting the kybosh on it.

We must also, at this point, consider what The sun is up to. It’s a well-known rule in tabloid journalism that you don’t start a campaign without knowing you are going to win it. You don’t start a fight to save an alpaca’s life if you know, or even suspect, that you will later have to solemnly report the news of its death – and by association, your failure.

Geronimo is ready to join a sacred list of spared farm animals, but not yet. Has it really been eleven years since The sun rushed to a Russian Black Sea resort to save a parasailing donkey? Anapka, you may remember, was bought for £ 1,500 and led a life of luxury in “an elite Kremlin stable” where she would spend the rest of her days eating carrots and receiving gifts. massages.

(It would unfortunately appear shortly after the bad donkey was secured. The owner of Anapka, a Russian flying donkey entrepreneur called Vasily Gorobets, later claimed that the real parasail was a different donkey called Manya. “I can’t believe they didn’t notice the trick,” he told a Russian newspaper. “Manya is with me and I keep her close. I wouldn’t give her away for the world. “.)

There was also the legendary story of Blackie the Alhambra donkey, also a victim of apparent abuse near the vacation spot of British tourists in the summer of 1987. There was a race to repatriate her, which resulted in was won by The sun, who tracked her down and paid £ 250 to the local farmer in question. Corn The star arrived later and secretly outbid them. One version of this story involved the theft of Blackie by a rival reporter outside a Fleet Street pub, where he had been ceremonially tied up. But this, like so many things, is understood to never have happened.

(Tit sunThe editor at the time, Kelvin Mackenzie, was not very satisfied, especially since he desperately needed to strengthen his animal love credentials, given that he was simultaneously doing a huge libel payment to Elton John, whom he had falsely accused of having had his watchdogs’ voice boxes surgically removed.)

That Boris Johnson does not jump at the chance to join the cast of such a revered incestuous journalistic narrative seems remarkably far-fetched.

Especially since he finds himself with an emergency cleaning to do. Her latest hilarious joke, about how the UK’s clean energy revolution was started by Margaret Thatcher, who had the foresight and wisdom to ‘shut down so many coal mines’ has once been described as her worst blunder.

Even by its own standards, it’s somewhat unbelievable. He is fully aware that he governs only with the temporary support of the former industrial centers of Labor. It is one thing to compare the EU to the Nazis, or to make dark jokes about corpses on Libyan beaches. It is another to laugh openly at the misery and suffering of so many Britons on whom you depend. Of course, it shows a man hopelessly disconnected, with no concept of real work, real hardships, and actions with real consequences. But we already know all of this.

And we also know that, in such circumstances, and with its ballot also collapsing, an alpaca can very easily be spared. If not, then maybe, just maybe, the luckiest politician in the world is finally running out of stuff.


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