7 ways to mark Brexit if Big Ben won’t bong

    20 January 2020

    Big Ben is a bell, and as such, an appropriate symbol for our nation’s political class: Loud, outdated, lofty and, as it turns out, inanimate. It has, though, also become something of a fixation for Brexiteers, many of whom wish to hear the it on January 31 to signal the nation’s exit from membership of the European Union.

    As things currently stand, the bell will be silent, barring an unforeseen series of events, like Mark Francois taking matters into his own hands, scaling the outside of the Elizabeth Tower, and going full Quasimodo as the clock ticks down, screaming ‘the bell, THE BELL!’

    But, should Big Ben not go bong, for ye in need of Brexit cheer: Never fear! There are plenty of other ways we can see in the new age.

    Party like you’re Nigel Farage

    Nigel Farage is already planning a party in parliament square, but as it’s him organising it, don’t expect it to reach Westminster. That’s not to say the idea isn’t sound, though I’d like to see it more like a traditional funfair, with a carousel that goes round and round but takes three years to get off, dodgems with numbers weighted 52-48 in favour of Brexiteers, and a haunted house, which is just a recreation of the debating chamber of the European Parliament, with an animatronic Guy Verhofstadt shrieking at you.

    Recreate the running of the bulls with remainers

    Let me propose a fun game that the whole nation can get behind — taking inspiration from our cousins in Pamplona, to show there are no hard feelings, we cordon off the streets of London, and give each of the self-anointed Tory ‘Spartans’ a 30 second head start, wearing nothing but a jockstrap and a cape, before releasing behind them 10,000 or so irate remainers. Everyone wins — we all get a day out, the remainers can let off some of that pent-up steam. Bets can be taken on who will fare best, and the winner gets a Cabinet post. The loser, presumably, is gored/bored to death by AC Grayling.

    A Nation-wide Love Island

    We are an island and we’re in need of some tenderness towards each other. After all, Boris Johnson himself predicted a bonking bananza and baby-boom in the wake of Brexit, and not just because Carrie promised him a weekend pass if he pulled the whole thing off.  So get on Tinder, down to your local speed-dating center, and start hammering out some trade deals. Never shagged a Tory? No time like the present, there’s a majority of them.

    Head over the Irish border

    Dublin, we are so often told, is a great place for a night out, but, throughout Brexit, we have heard many a worrying tale of how dependent the Irish economy is on the UK, and how the whole saga has shown little we care about our friends in the Emerald Isle. So, let’s put that right, by making them our first trip abroad. Remainers  can get all excited about the feel of a Euro in their fingers and, after a few pints, Brexiteers can venture north to Belfast to test out the hardness of the border. Each to their own.

    A Brexit bonfire

    This is a chance to do away with all the remnants of this God-forsaken political period and preferably we should light it on the cliffs of Dover. So let us take all the old EU flags, the t-shirts, the mugs, the placards, the leftover MEPs, Boris’s red bus, Brexitcast, Tom Harwood, FBPE Twitter, the New European, the ERG, and the man in the hat who spent the last three years shouting ‘STOP BREXIT’ into a megaphone, and set it alight in the hope that we never have to hear the phrase Get Brexit Done again.

    A Great British ‘Get Baked’ Off

    Well, seeing as we’re obsessed with bongs all of a sudden, why don’t we take the next month off and relieve some tension? Chill out, everybody. It’ll be a chance for some peace, love, and reconciliation. And snacks.

    Withdraw Article 50

    Boris Johnson has a majority of 80, and a fixed five year term. What’s stopping him? Honestly, we’ve become so accustomed to political turmoil, I don’t think the nation can deal with straightforward governance anymore. And besides what will we be left to moan about apart from Megxit and the weather? We can’t cope, so to speak, on the outside. So let’s cause a bit more chaos. It’s who we are, now, and we’re jolly good at it. And though it would be supremely childish, it would really, really wind up all the right people.