Remoanian pissy whine extends across London

Before Lebedev's ownership, and when it used to cost 20p, London's Standard was popularly known as the Evening Mail, accurately reflecting its City-biased editorial stance. There would be up to four editions distributed between 1pm and 5pm, with insiders familiar with the arcane star markings and content of the post-printed racing results / late news strip on the back page who always ensured that they bought the latest edition. Before the internet, people would use it to find flats - homehunters would swoop on the orange and white chevron vans as they tossed out the first bundles of the first editions. That was back in the era of Headbags, when the echoes of Big Bang still reverberated. 

Now the Evening Standard has become quite the metropolitan socially liberal thing, a paper that beardy hipsters are not embarrassed to show in their Quinoa bars or ethical coffee salons. It reflects a new London readership of 800,000 daily copies, and is politically quite wet. No surprise then that Lebedev has picked an arch Remainian for the UK's most Remainian city, in new editor George Osborne. With only one edition, and edited now by subs who often offer bare evidence of literacy, it is today a lifestyle and opinion platform for advertising rather than a serious paper.  

No doubt the Standard under Osborne will join the Guardian in emitting a long pissy whine from all those that just can't get over Brexit. The fools are already blaming Brexit for the break up of the union, failing to realise that it has no more happened yet than the dire economic slump and financial tsunami that the Standard's new editor predicted. With Osborne's piss-poor judgement he will now proceed to give a platform to every Remoaner loon, fruitcake and bug-eyed zealot. Not only do they infest twitter and the Guardian's damp pages, but we'll have now have to snort at their lunacy whilst jammed in the doorspace of a stalled commuter cattle car. 

Tim Stanley in this morning's Telegraph catalogues yet more persistent Remoaners who just won't flush (to steal a phrase from a witty commenter) but Brendan O'Neill writing for Medium does the job perfectly; 

And, of course, all tantrums involve lashing out, as this one does. The levels of antipathy aimed at voters, and at democracy itself, has been extraordinary. We have failed to “keep the mob from the gates”, says Brexit-fearing columnist Matthew Parris. American writer Jason Brennan has become a favourite of liberal publications in the tantrum era because he wrote a book called Against Democracy and says “low-information white people” should not be trusted to make big political decisions.

American-British conservative Andrew Sullivan frets that the “passions of the mob” have been unleashed. A writer for The Observer says it’s time to smash the “taboo” against saying that ordinary people are often very stupid, and “there are times when their stupidity combines to produce gross, self-harming acts of national stupidity”. Don’t worry, mate: that taboo has been well and truly demolished, if it ever existed. Post-Brexit and post-Trump, the chattering classes have not been shy in wondering if the masses are too daft for politics.

But the biggest long pissy whine of all still comes from the Guardian's grievously butthurt scribblers - who are moving to a nihilistic, nationally self-destructive form of sutee to share their pain whilst seeking to destroy the nation's good. Screw 'em.