A Greek tragedy

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Just occasionally, the fates act in a way which brings about a perfect conjunction of people or events.  ‘Perfect’ doesn’t necessarily mean good, of course; something can be perfectly bad as well as perfectly good.  In the context in which I’m using the word here, what I mean is that things are perfectly complementary, like yin and yang.

In years to come, historians will marvel (although conspiracy theorists may well develop their own explanations) at how the paths taken by Jeremy (born 26 May 1949) and Theresa (born 1 October 1956) followed such apparently completely divergent routes before bringing them to precisely the right point, at precisely the right time, to create such a perfect conjunction, such a deadly duet, such a danse macabre.  So different yet so similar: the survival of each now depends on the other as they are locked in a ritual to which there appears to be no end, no obvious denouement; they can only play the roles assigned to them by the fates until the fates decide that they’ve had enough.

There is a clear consensus between them on one thing and one thing only – they are both absolutely convinced that ‘consensus’ requires everybody else to agree with them.  Theresa summoned the leaders of other parties to hector them into forming a consensus with her to back her deal, whilst Jeremy invited MPs from across the House of Commons to listen to his plans for forming a consensus around his alternative.  Both seem to have listened only with their mouths, leaving their hearing organs unsullied by any contrary opinions.  And thus the tragedy plays out, with its unexpected twists and turns all scripted centuries ago by the all-seeing fates, with the end as yet unknowable.  We have reached the point where our best hope may be that the tragedy truly is a Greek one; at least they had a deus ex machina to resolve the apparently irresolvable.