Labour, birthed to defend labor, doesn’t quite fancy asking those who labor the laborious question of whom should labor for them.

Boris Johnson made history last week. That history didn’t last long—15 minutes to be precise.

After taking over as prime minister just 93 days ago, Boris, like President Trump, was written off by our betters as an idiot, a chancer—he even has a predilection for dewy, tautly-compressed women. The horror!

Like Trump, Boris came through. He managed to seal, briefly, a Brexit deal vastly superior than that of the professionally meek Theresa May.

Gone was the Irish backstop; a deal in which we actually leave the European Union almost gilded. Even the EU begged Parliament to say yes—1,218 days since the referendum—to the deal formed by the idiot genius.

And they did. By a majority of 30. That morphine warmth flitted the arteries for just 15 minutes. It was over! Over. Oh-vuh. Oh, pah!

Yes. Lawmakers who’ve drained three-and-a-half years of everyone’s lives in what they claim to be our best interests unmasked themselves as little more than an incompetent, insidious rabble.

Having voted for Boris’s deal, they then backed the Letwin amendment—rejecting the prime minister’s Trumpian high-energy timetable of one-week to push it through Parliament and leave, finally, on October 31.

Three-and-a-half years is not enough time. They need a few more weeks and months to debate the only subject to which anyone on this declining, laughable lump is subjected.

Progressive lawmakers have waffled ceaselessly about an election. “We must put it to the people!” they cried. That was until polls suggested those people are fixing to fumigate the fabulists from office.

So, in all likelihood, we will miss the second Brexit deadline. After one referendum, two elections, three-and-a-half years, and 25,000 cigarettes.

What animates two-thirds of Parliament is a psychological need to be right. They assumed Brexit would lose—a preserve of the parochial. Like Trump: no chance of winning.

Which explains the psychotic tantrums of those on both sides of the Atlantic. Brexit voters did not know what they were voting for. President Trump was elected by Russia, by racism, by rubes.

The crest of reality creeps. We haven’t changed our minds, despite every lacquered poll feigning elsewise. Polls, of course, being instruments of manipulation, not measure.

And Trump, subject to laughably ambitious impeachment proceedings, will leave the White House in 2024.

Both events, which historians will mantel as significant as the crumble of the Berlin Wall, are illegitimate to those who understand neither.

And they don’t understand those over which they purport to rule. Labour, birthed to defend labor, doesn’t quite fancy asking those who labor the laborious question of whom should labor for them.

Because progressives are no longer progressive. Captured by middle-class radicals, the Labour Party is beholden to the liquid whims of the loud and woke. Two-thirds of Labour constituencies voted Leave. One-third of their voters, too.

Those voters, much like Trump Democrats, fail to see the magic of wage-killing immigration, the unreality of identity politics. Asking them what they think will produce the wrong answer.

Led—or, rather, shambled—by Jeremy Corbyn, the progressive Labour Party is undergoing a gender transition, yet hasn’t decided at which gender it would like to arrive.

Corbyn, a student of the legendary Labour Eurosceptic Tony Benn, has been a Brexiteer since the day before forever.

He’s being held against his will. To hear Corbyn demand a second referendum on membership in a European Union he has despised his entire career is like hearing Ted Bundy declare his long-standing feminism.

Now, we tired British will grouse over Brexit during the Christmas holidays. The EU is likely to punch Brexit into next year.

Unless Emmanuel Macron digs in. The French President has also had enough. His suggestion of a 15-day extension to push through the deal is perhaps the only ribbon of sense evident over the last week.

But, that is not a given. The farce remains impregnable to Macron’s glimmer.

Boris Johnson is eager for an election. Labour is keen to block his request. Johnson needs two-thirds of the zombie Parliament to grant his wishes. Labour have threatened to vote it down.

Yes, an opposition party with no fancy for an election. And for good reason.

Those who’ve gabbled about a “People’s Vote” don’t fancy the people voting. Polls suggest Boris and the Conservatives will snort up 37 percent of the vote. A new parliament snapping with lawmakers for whom democracy is still a thing? Novel.

The high priest among the Remainer claque tittered upon her own political death during a scene in Parliament. Conservative lawmaker Anna Soubry, Remain Slay Queen, pooh-poohed the usefulness of a fresh poll.

Soubry asserted: “A general election would solve nothing.”

Sitting behind her, John Mann, a Labour Leaver, laughed: “It’d solve you! You’d lose your job.”

We can only hope.