I can’t say I’m surprised that an election has been called. As it becomes clearer and clearer (to the Tories in power — they were warned!) how horribly long and messy and potentially disastrous the Brexit process will be, you can see why Theresa May, her Chancellor, and the other grown-ups in the room will be hoping and praying for a majority large enough to be able to ignore the madder Brexiteers in their party. We shall see.
And that’s going to be my last word on the whole depressing matter here, at least until after the election. I wasted far too much time reading the political news, the commentaries, the deep background pieces, at referendum time, and again with the Trump election. There was no joy in that and I’m not sure I ended up very much more enlightened about what the hell has been going on with us (instant history is rarely good history). So this time around, it is a self-dying ordinance for me. It is already clear, at least to me, how to cast my solitary vote locally. And so, until the day comes round, no more newspapers on the iPad first thing; no more late-night catch-ups; no more long-reads from political writers. I’m going cold turkey.