Good-bye UK

Now that's over, and I'm past the initial shock, depression and blind rage - moving into sadness now - as I contemplate the near certainty of a now-unfettered Spain making their play for Gibraltar, the Scots doing what they promised they'd do (Brexiters actually have asked me what I was talking about, as if Nicola wouldn't dream of putting another referendum before the Scottish people), of the UK's prospects as a global financial centre diminishing perceptibly within a matter of minutes . . . a worm in my mind twists and turns: I can't help but reflect that none of this would have happened if Cameron hadn't felt compelled to go with these crazy referenda - effectively subjecting the country to mob rule - solely in order to consolidate power in the Conservative Party by throwing a bone to the right-wing back-benchers.  Fuck him - he deserves his new-found place as one of Britain's most disastrous PMs.  But Boris: he now has his own special place in hell: he knew exactly what he was doing. He put the country at risk in his own effort to win credibility with the nut-jobs in his party, probably assuming the referendum would never pass. Move over Colin Powell: you've got company. You both knew better.