The salmon of doubt

I recollect that today was the deadline for getting all that Brexit thing done and dusted. I suppose the SARS-CoV- 2 had anyway put an end to that deadline, but I suspect Boris is one of those people who love deadlines. Who love the whooshing noise they make as they go by. 

We'll all have plenty of time to stop and consider once the lorries have been placed on the motorways because slippy Mr Gove hasn't budgeted enough money to make it all work. 

The next motorway planned for closure is the M275, which leads toward Southampton and Portsmouth. Gove will be talking about rows of Portaloos along the roadside next (With still no master plan)

Then there are the actual negotiations. Boris has decided to keep banging on about fishing rights, which in the scheme of the Brexit deal is one of the smaller items. Not quite a Red Herring, but somehow similar in nature. A case of siting of the Power Station and siting of the bike sheds. (fishing in the rivers of life)

I understand its importance to this island nation and to the symbolism, but add to that the wind beneath Boris' sails and the trite answers he gave to the 1922 Committee the other day, and we can see that this is all headed to lack-of-detail-land (bring the beat back).

 The issues being kept quieter are the so-called level playing field, which implies that the UK must still adhere to EU concepts after separation. Not really taking back control, in other words. 

And State subsidies - not being allowed to provide domestic subsidies to any industry. So I can't help wonder if we are going to get the poor effects of Brexit. Lorry parks, random shortages, barriers to trade, but not be able to do anything about it - because we have been unable to take back control. (All bound for mu-mu land)