I wish I was a spaceman.

There's that bit in movies where we can finally see that one of the principal characters has lost it. 

They try to make him more interesting by introducing a dog, or sometimes a life event - like a new girlfriend/baby/move of location. Boris had the dog, girlfriend, house move, baby, some time ago, which meant the only way he could go was loopy. 

This time its the Star Fleet gambit. Throw money north of the border and hope some of it sticks. We've already got a perfectly good space station down here in the South West. Newquay actually.  

Spaceport Cornwall. 

A snip at £200 million, compared with £16 billion defence spending increase announced by Boris with a procurement process that “has continued to squander billions of pounds, enriching some of the worst corporate looters and corrupting public life via the revolving door of officials/lobbyists”, as Mr Cummings blogged last March. 

 It's like the coolest revenge of Mekon Cummings, after he has already left the building. 

That cardboard box was empty. He used it to bring in a few playbooks to leave around the place by way of sabotage. You know the bit, where he's planted the time-bomb and no-one knows how to cut the wires. I'm sticking with 6th January.