Geoffrey X Explains Why He Hides His Identity in Diary of a Brexiteer

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 Bit of a blow discovering that Malcolm X – my freedom-fighting hero – was a black man. Not that there’s anything racist about me, but a black man is hardly a suitable role model for my fight against uncontrolled immigration. But no way I could have known a thing like that.  I thought the man was a Scot.

People keep asking me why I call myself Geoffrey X instead of using my real name – they tell me I should be proud of my fight to exorcise the toxic EU from our great country, but they don’t seem to realise how many dangerous liberals there are out there – one slip  and they pounce as if you’ve said something stupid or small-minded. They actually believe that Brexit is going to ruin the country.   And they think we’re the stupid ones!

And if the liberals don’t get you,  Scotland, Northern Ireland and Gibraltar are kicking up a fuss. I had a bit of a chat with some pals in the military, but apparently there are no grounds for airstrikes yet.  Frankly, I got the feeling they weren’t taking it seriously at all, which is very disappointing.  If you can’t rely on the army to enforce democracy we must be in a bigger mess than I thought.   I suppose being ruled for forty years by an unelected dictatorship has made them forget how things should be done.  Jacob Rees-Mogg let me down rather badly too – claimed he had absolutely no idea what an Air Force was.

I suppose they better not try anything till we actually leave the EU dictatorship – the European Court of Justice can even interfere with our defence of the realm.  Complete madness – Boris was quite right about them being worse than the Third Reich!

And then there’s all the young screaming at us that we have ruined their future.  One tries to be charitable – they don’t have the wisdom and experience to realise what a terrible organisation the EU really is.  And of course, at that age all they’re interested in is jobs, and going to live where they want, and legislation about silly health and safety things like not getting your fingers chopped off in farm machinery, and not having war in Europe – but that’s the me-me-me generation for you.

Of course it will take us a little while to get back on our feet when we leave, but what is thirty or forty years when one thinks of all the benefits.  Just imagine a world in which we can buy a proper light bulb, a curved banana, or a vacuum cleaner that can actually hoover up the dog hairs.

And the Rabid Remoaners keep taking to the streets, waving banners and chanting in the name of democracy! As if being ruled by completely unelected bureaucrats in Brussels is democratic.   Some of them try and claim that there is an EU parliament that is directly elected by us!  First I’ve heard of it.  But just the sort of thing I would expect them to make up.  How can there be a democratically elected parliament in an organisation that is completely undemocratic!

And now people are making a ridiculous fuss about the possibility of a trade agreement with America having a clause that would allow American businesses to sue if the British government passes laws that affect their profits. But what’s wrong with that – a man’s got to make a living somehow, and they’d have to protect themselves against the possibility of a Labour government. Anyway, far better that American businesses dictate terms than unelected bureaucrats in Brussels.

And if things aren’t bad enough in Britain, in France I have to pretend I voted against Brexit or I’d never get served in the bar. It’s a terrible thing to have to hide who you really are out of fear.

So until the return of sanity, I shall continue the patriotic fight for the rights of an oppressed minority as Geoffrey X.

And on the day we leave, I shall walk into my local greengrocer as a free man and proudly buy a pound of bendy bananas.