I mean, you can't come barging in 'over here' and tell the truth to our establishment. We, or rather they, don't 'do' telling the truth and they will be shocked, I tell you, shocked! They all exist in a murky, slimy pond through which they glide and slide whilst constantly changing colour and shape. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is what it seems to be, it is only what they say it is - today - and of course, tomorrow it will all change. So, Mr. President, your habit of 'calling a spade a bloody shovel' will have had much the same effect as "The man who lit his cigar before the royal toast", as illustrated by the late, great H. M. Bateman:
In the cabinet and the higher reaches of the civil service - which, admittedly, is not very high at all! - they must be reeling round as though they had taken a punch from Muhammad Ali. One almost - well, slightly, oh alright then, faintly - feels a teensy-weensy bit sorry for 'St. Theresa of May' who has been humiliated and, in effect, told out loud that she is an A1 lying-liar - do you think 'The Don' reads this blog? - and all this as she was entertaining him at the ancestral home of Winston Churchill!
Alas, the Tory party is finished! It has been holed well below decks and all we will see over the next few months? weeks? days? is an unseemly scramble for the lifeboats. Mrs. May is a polite, well-meaning, middle-class lady who clings to the old-fashioned, English principles of compromise. Alas, in matters of national life and death ruthlessness is all! She lacks it and she must go!
Er, by the way, thanks, 'Don', I really appreciate it!