On the orders of the president

It’s as if all of life has become a war between The Narcissists and everyone else. The Narcissists have definitely won this round, but it might not serve their purposes in the larger war.

(Is that a built-in shield against Narcissists? The more they win the more they disgust everyone else, so their power is always fragile and temporary? It’s a pretty thought, at least.)

The resignation of Sir Kim Darroch followed the failure of the likely next prime minister, Boris Johnson, to say he would support him staying in post – despite being given repeated chances to do so during his TV debate with Jeremy Hunt. As the current Foreign Office minister Alan Duncan put it, by six times refusing to back the ambassador, Johnson had thrown him under a bus.

And thrown Trump a whole truckload of ice cream.

There will now be white hot anger across the Foreign Office and in parliament – not just at the leaker and Trump, but also at Johnson. Whatever sanctimonious expressions of regret he mouths, and however much he blames the leaker, King Charles Street knows the Conservative leadership candidate effectively sacked Darroch on the orders of the president.

And on the orders of the president not for any weighty reasons of state but because the president’s throbbing engorged vanity is wounded. How pathetic is that? What kind of pitiful needy childish loser – to use Trump’s favorite epithet – admits to taking it personally when an ambassador reports to his government? What kind of pitiful needy childish loser takes it personally in public and calls the truth-telling ambassador silly schoolyard names? What kind of chickenshit lickspittle toady backs him up when he does so? Donnie and BoJo, that’s what kind.

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