'It MUST come sometimes to "jam to-day,"' Alice objected.
'No, it can't,' said the Queen. 'It's jam every OTHER day: to-day isn't any OTHER day, you know.'
John Kilbride was in Waitrose the other day when he noticed something rather peculiar. There on the shelf in the dedicated condiments and preserves aisle (I'm guessing that, I mean I haven't actually bothered to research any of this) were two sets of jam jars. Quick as a flash John did a bit of mental arithmetic (again that's a guess - don't hold me to that - I know nothing about John - ask him yourself) and deduced that in purchasing the filled jar one could make a saving of some 29 of your British pence while, you know, also having some jam in it.
Now in that, there's a rather lovely metaphor for Brexit. One jar is void, vacant - a flask of air - full of promise perhaps, but ultimately wholly barren. Most of those who buy, will do so on a whim, before putting their purchase (inevitably) on a shelf and leave it there for a year or two, before ending the matter by chucking it into the recycling container.
"Emptiness" in itself of course a not a wholly negative thing - Mr Farage has built an entire career out of it - but the art of making really good jam is rather harder than running a mere political party. With time and endeavour and money, the empty jar could be filled with delicious preserve - but frankly the expense and effort of doing so will far outweigh the cost of the pot in the first place.
You're basically looking at Four Quid at least for some really shit jam that has taken an inordinate and unnecessary time to cook up. But you know - sovereignty.....
