SOMETIMES, I have a vision that leaving Europe is as simple a situation as a son leaving home.
I pack my bags, say cheerio and my tearful parents wave me off before wishing me well in my new life. But really I’m leaving because my large family don’t get on, I’ve told them so and they aren’t happy about it.
You see, the two elder siblings dominate the proceedings and whatever they say, however illogical, the junior members are expected to do as they’re told, in a nice way of course.
Some time ago they produced a family credit card which all of us could use.
At first, this seemed to be a good idea, then a couple of the more junior members lost their jobs and got into some kind of debt, but the brothers forget how badly they’d abused their siblings in the past and yet they’re so intent on keeping our family intact that they’ll go to any lengths to keep control.
This is the dream however, in reality leaving this dysfunctional family of Europe isn’t so easy.
In the trenches opposite there are many lying in wait, a hostile intent to ambush. Yet not only Europeans, they have their mercenaries within our own ranks, playing a Byzantine law game against a people who have simply decided to leave.
There’s no doubt about it, we shall leave but it will be messy, the apostles of the European dream angry that anyone could have the temerity to secede from their empire.
But I believe the time has come for the fight to be taken to the enemy. Today, I have little doubt that a great deal is being done, but that this is not the perceived opinion.
In today’s world of instant gratification, people become angry at thoughts of inaction.
If the momentum of Brexit is to be maintained, we need vision – and visionaries.
How do you think Winston Churchill or Margaret Thatcher would have addressed this?
For most people, leaving the EU is not just a bureaucratic adjustment but a movement, a life changing event, a time not just of thought but of spirit, hope and emotion.
Let’s ask our leaders to start and demonstrate their faith by carrying us on a tide of optimism rather than this everyday depressing silence.
On the morning the Somme offensive began, bagpipes were paraded and bugles blown.
Also on the D-Day landings in 1945.
Let’s have a fanfare of trumpets today, roll out the red carpet and tell ’em we’re leaving.