Cummings and goings ; or, the amazing career of Cominic McAvity

This blogpost is not about Dominic Cummings.

This blogpost is not about his self-aggrandising grandsatndings and his megalomaniacal humblebraggings.

This blogpost is not about his heroic odysseys through the Cabinet Room.

This blogpost is not about his death-defying struggles with the dunderheads of Whitehall, his forlorn castings of pearls before swine.

This blogpost is not about a prophet without honour in his own land.

This blogpost is not about his marvellous crafting of wondrous fictions during the Brexit campaign.

This blogpost is not about his all too generous 'delivery' of Brexit (the gift that just has to keep on giving).

This blogpost is not about his Kafkaesque metamorphosis into the Stalin of Downing Street, and the magical purge of all heretics and doubting Thomases from the Conservative Party.

This blogpost is not about his equally Kafkaesque metamorphosis in March 2020 into T. S. Eliot's McAvity, the cat that was everywhere, and yet was mysteriously nowhere to be found in the counsels of state.

This blogpost is not about the saint fallen among thieves, the sage fallen among cretins, who (if only we had known it !) would have been the nation's saviour.

No, just in case you were labouring under the misapprehension that this post is about Cominic Dummings, I need to reassure you that it is not.

And this post is not about Cominic McAvity. Or Dominic McAvity. Or even Dominic Cummings. Or even Alexander. Or even a cat. Or even Kafka's terrible creature.

It is not really about a living person at all.

No, just in case you were labouring undert his terrible misapprehension (and I can quite understand if you were), I would repeat again:

THIS BLOGPOST IS NOT ABOUT DOMINIC CUMMINGS

Is that quite clear ? Good. I wouldn't want there to be any misunderstandings. What is the use of writing a blogpost if the meaning is not absolutely clear. It cannot be opaque in any way. It must be 'transparent', as they say.

This blogpost is about the thousands who cannot speak. And the thousands who knew them.