Next week Gordon Brown will be further humiliated when 'his' G20 summit collapses in a shambles of indecision and pointlessness. His Chancellor and the Bank's governor have effectively declared his policies are wrong. The world's power economies have rejected his advice. He's even been lectured by Chile on his fiscal incompetence. The best he can hope for next week is some luke-warm words in support in international financial regulation.
The black cloud of gloom, failure, desperation and impotence that Gordon trails around with him, whether we like it or not, if affecting the rest of us. There will be no economic recovery in the UK until he is gone and the national mood lightens. Like the spectre at the feast, he makes the food in our mouths lose its taste, the wine its potency and he stifles the laughter in our throats. Gordon is part of the problem; he can never be part of the solution.
If the man had one scruple of honour, decency or selflessness in his bones he would disappear to the library with a revolver and a bottle of Scotch. Like Hatfield Girl and many others, I don't think we can wait until May 2010 to be rid of him; our national interest, our national well-being, and our prospects for the future demand that he goes much sooner.
No, I'm not encouraging a Spencer Perceval solution. But if the spirit of Albion could just wake from slumber long enough to nudge natural events to let us be rid of the man, we might all have half a chance.