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“He said he’d show me his!”

In this transatlantic game of ‘I'll show you mine if you me show me yours’, Theresa May has been left standing in a corner of the playground with her skirts hitched high, pants round her kitten heels while Trump - flies done up, trousers firmly secured for perhaps the first time in his schoolyard career- peers interestedly forward. How, as someone once said, has it come to this?

The irony of the current political climate is that the mood that got Trump elected as leader of his country - the sense of frustration that there is an elite level of politics way above most people’s lives, where the privileged few can pander to very kind of jerk and ne’er do well in exchange for money- is the same mood driving the demonstrations to keep him out of our country. Why is the leader of our country sucking up to this racist moron?, we cry. Hubris, my friends. Whilst to the rest of the aghast world we might look as though we've run screaming into the arms of our nemesis, there is a deluded narrative amongst the British establishment that we have been playing a very cool hand indeed. Fear not for the safety of our unelected PM, for she has the mighty power of our famed British diplomacy with which to tame this treacherous lecher who appears to be subjugating us at his whim. 'We have got him to commit to NATO in front of the cameras' is the self satisfied line from our betters. Well, now we can all sleep easy. Because if there’s one thing the Mysoginist of Orange in the House of White is genuinely frightened of, it’s the thought that he might contradict himself by saying the opposite of what he had previously been recorded as saying on national television.

But there’s more! Fresh from squeezing the sexual predator’s hand on her triumphant diplomatic tour de force, Mrs M, to the surprise of absolutely no-one with a pulse and an internet connection, is put in the embarrassing situation of having to comment on an executive order issued by the Bouffanted Bullshitter. An order which would appear to be illegal, and almost certainly unconstitutional. What a muddle for the poor Vicar’s daughter! Luckily, she was too busy selling arms to a dictator in the sunny climes of the Mediterranean to be able to give a quick response. She can’t do everything! She’s not Mother f**king Theresa! She’s trying to do a quick bit of trade with a man who has sacked and imprisoned over 120,000 teachers, journalists and policemen, and you expect a statement within hours on a matter of international importance? I don’t think you realise how complicated and exhausting it is lifting your skirts to ruthless despots on the international arms circuit. No, you can have your answer when she’s good and ready, say 48 hours. And don’t come all clever with “Didn’t he actually tell you all this when you met him?” It’s all so easy with hindsight, isn’t it, but when all you’ve got to go on is the fact that a man makes racist pronouncements, is openly misogynistic, brags about molesting women, mocks the disabled, slanders civil rights activist who have been beaten up on peaceful demonstrations and is a proven liar, well then it’s not quite so easy, is it.