Theresa May confirmed she was standing down as Tory leader on Friday of next week. Most people, including the posh scum of her own party, are glad she is going.
For three seconds after she finished her resignation speech in front of Number 10, there was complete silence.
Then followed a bark of laughter in the street. It was better than she deserved.
There was some noise about tears. But even amid the self-pity, May’s strange, offensive approach reappeared. She compared her failed attempts to pass her Brexit deal to the Kindertransport—rescuing Jewish children from the Nazis.
You could say that May faced a hostile environment. But a lack of empathy is nothing to the ruined lives she leaves behind.
What was presented as tough-minded self-discipline was ignorance and spite.
When she became prime minister she talked about tackling “burning injustices”. And then she made them worse.
The truest thing she ever said was, “You know what some people call us—the nasty party.”
Her one achievement of note was she managed to make it nastier—and oversee its hopefully permanent decline.
If you didn’t cry over Grenfell, the Windrush generation, or the war on disabled people, then, as Bob Dylan sang, “Take the rag away from your face. Now ain’t the time for your tears.”