Done up like a kipper

Sean Gabb wasted an evening at 18 Doughty Street
Now, I have been accused, because of my recent postings, of political nihilism. My accusers have a point. But what is wrong with nihilism?

Suppose you are taken into a restaurant, where everything offered is some preparation of stinking fish. Do you placidly go ahead with your order? Or do you throw the menu aside and comment on the smell?

And suppose the other guests—who all seem to have a connection with the management—strike up a debate on the merits of poached as against grilled stinking fish. Do you join in? Or do you head for the door?

And—to complete the analogy—suppose you find yourself chained to the table with a feeding tube shoved down your throat. Is it reasonable to do other than wish for the waiters and the unseen kitchen staff to be taken out and shot?

That describes the politics of this country at the moment. And if saying so is nihilism, I am a nihilist.