The loose-cannon culture secretary said the quiet bits out loud in a week of Conservative pantomime
Roland the Farter was the jester star of the court of Henry II, shattering the dignity of society once a year when, during the king’s raucous Christmas celebrations, he would deliver his explosive volleys on demand. The Farter would have served Boris Johnson’s swiftly decomposing Brexit government well, characterised as it is by a daily succession of stinking yet plosive announcements, designed only to distract from its rapid public unravelling. But instead of Roland the Farter, we have Nadine Dorries, whose unfiltered gob-flatus exposes deeper truths than the festive flatulence of the famous Roland could reveal.
Last Monday, Dorries opened the 70s lost-property drawstring PE kitbag of her mouth and let out a whole Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber West End musical’s worth of cats. Dorries is a Natural Fool that Shakespeare would have recognised, an accidental wisewoman free from the social restrictions of the ordinary citizen. In a Westminster world of lies, Dorries lets slip accidental truths even while all around her try to conceal them. In vino veritas.
