UK presses the big red button ignoring the “do not press” sign next to it.
It’s late. I feel winded by tonight. I’m drinking a bottle of beer while following along to the BBC coverage of Britain leaving the EU (Dimbleby is interviewing a surprisingly dour looking, considering his side has just won, Liam Fox). I’m tired and I want to go to sleep, but I guess I want to see if rumours of a Cameron resignation come to fruition, and I also thought I should record my immediate thoughts on this silly – increasingly political in tone – blog that I keep.
I’ve experienced elections that didn’t go my way before – we all have – and while it hurts, there is always that encouraging thought that next time will turn out better for your side. This, however, feels different, genuinely heart breaking. A plebiscite like this is a once-in-a-generation event, the Britain – for better or worse – that will result from this referendum is going to be very different. Losing this one hurts; it brings about a despair that is so much more pervasive than is ever the case when you lose a General Election. Both sides – to neither’s credit – has presented this referendum as something of a Manichean choice and so losing feels utterly disastrous; history you didn’t want to see made.