We all knew that the Robbins Plan was dead in the water. It was rejected by the EU and Mrs May's own colleagues, by the intelligent press and by grassroots Brexiteers long before Mrs May started packing for her trip to Salzburg. Everyone knew, it seems, except Mrs May herself. Her evident open shock and distress at yesterday's rejection made clear she actually believed beforehand that it had some realistic chance of success.
And whatever one's regard for Mrs May's intellect or her judgement, it's impossible not to admire her tenacity and resilience. The sheer boorishness and bullying incivility of the EU capos yesterday will have sparked a tiny flame of resentment in the hearts of many non-Brexit Britons; she may be a bloody useless plank, but she's our bloody useless plank. Thank you, gents.
Likewise, many non-Brexit Brits will also have been irritated at being told that the EU capos want us to vote again, after they've smashed the windows and keyed the car and left a horse's head in blighty's bed. Malta is fast becoming a failed State, run by a criminal cabal with the island's politicians in their pockets, a place where inquisitive journalists can be murdered with impunity. I'd suggest Joseph Muscat would be better employed trying to restore justice and the rule of law to his mafia-fouled little country. And Herr Macron has been listening for too long to his granny's quavering fears.
The Federasts simply don't understand the 'hearts and minds' thing, do they? With every move they alienate more and more Brits, create greater hostility and make a future relationship more difficult.
Well, I can't tell you what the deal should be, but I'm confident there will be some last-minute accommodation, if we don't blink first. A Federast was quoted yesterday as saying 'don't think it's five minutes to midnight; it's more like half-past eight'. Well, I'd put it at about a quarter past ten myself, but point taken. Now will someone please convince Mrs May that we need a change of plan?