Dear Keir: flying the flag for equivocation

These flag-based protests present an excruciating dilemma. On the one hand, I don’t want to criticise patriots with legitimate concerns. On the other, I’m a law and order guy, so I can’t condone the vandalism of roundabouts and small businesses.

The nightmare scenario is that someone sprays a red cross on an RAF plane. I genuinely have no idea what I’d do.

For the record, I’m a supporter of flags. I’ll always wave the flag for flags. Whenever I see an England flag, my eyes are flooded with patriotic tears. Every square foot of my residence is covered in St George’s crosses (except the floors: that would be disrespectful). Instead of a TV in the living room, we have a flag. Every evening, me, Vic and the kids sit and stare at it for three hours, totally silent, like a normal English family.

But as much as I love flags, I don’t think you should necessarily spray one on a mosque. Which isn’t to say I’m soft on immigration! I dislike migrants to the maximum extent non-racist voters will tolerate. So, to recap: flags equal good, migrants equal bad, but also steady on, sort of. This precisely calibrated position ought to make everyone happy.

Dear Keir, I’ve worked as a chartered accountant for 25 years, but I always yearned to be a DJ. Is middle age too late to change careers?

Lysander, Birkenhead

Hi Lysander, Let me be clear: age is no deadline – it’s a launchpad. I only became a politician in my 50s, and we can all agree I’m doing amazing. Most MPs spend years plotting their path to No 10 (Wes Streeting wrote his maiden speech as a zygote). I kind of fell into being prime minister. I’m a passive protagonist, much like Forrest Gump.

That said, I object to the characterisation of me as a meat puppet for the Labour right (I’m thinking of Pogrund and Maguire’s book Get In, which I haven’t read but is bollocks). I’m not some tool of the establishment. And I should know, given that my dad was a… well, you can Google it. In any case, good luck swapping Microsoft Excel for decks and a mixer!

Dear Keir, my marriage is OK but devoid of passion. Should I leave to take a gamble on true happiness?

Fran, Daventry

Fran, I advise you to plough on joylessly. I’m a firm believer in making do. Take the Labour membership: hundreds of thousands have left the party since I became leader. Some remain unattached, while others have rebounded with the Lib Dems or the Greens. Some even make eyes at Corbyn-Sultana. But are they happy? No, because “perfect” is the enemy of “only somewhat inadequate”.

The smart ones stick around regardless of what I do. Zack Polanski may say the right (by which I mean left) things. Is he a knight of the realm? I think not. I must admit to feeling betrayed by these Labour deserters. Yes, I literally told them to leave if they didn’t like my changes, but that was reverse psychology.

Anyway, I should go and tweet more about deportations. This is how we beat Farage: by accepting his arguments wholesale, while claiming his solutions are impractical. I believe the British public wants a reasonable level of cruelty towards the most vulnerable. Moderate malice. Sensible sadism. I’m not prepared to dismiss these protesters as far right. They’re just painting things, and when has a painter ever been a fascist?

Until next time, smash the boats and stop the gangs! Or vice versa.

PS My comms team came up with a new slogan for our economic agenda: “Growth that people can feel in their pockets.” Pretty good, right? We also considered “Is that growth in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see us?”