Boris nicely draws out the regression of Labour to that infantile jibberish that comes just prior to death; in this final of the bard's seven ages not only is the Party grasping wildly at tax rates in a spiteful class-war last stand, but Harman's lunatic 'equalities' Bill is published. Thus Labour goes to the grave mewling and puking.
Legislating for equality is one of those puerile fantasies such as world peace or human brotherhood that one expects from Miss World contestants; their good looks generally excuse their lack of cerebration, but Mz Harman hardly has this excuse. So Labour continues to think in those crude and inaccurate stereotypes that has characterised so much of its policy; the working class poor vs. the rich middle class. The ethnic minority vs. the white Britisher. Utterly fatuous, in defiance of the evidence, an imbecile socialist death-spasm.
Harman is wholly delusional if she imagines this Bill will have one positive effect on our nation or people. Like all else that comes from Labour in its death throes, this is divisive, corrosive, corrupt and debilitating, a crude act of class war spite and vindictiveness.