Life after Brexit? Consensus on what will happen is in as short supply as Irish passport application forms
We haven't totally got a handle on this democracy thing, have we? A clear majority of the voting public - not a massive majority, but a clear one - have said they want to Brexit Europe.
You may not agree with this. (I don't. I voted In.) But this is how democracy works.
In the immortal, if somewhat disappointed words of Richard Nixon: "The people have spoken - the b*******."
For good or bad, we all now boldly go where Brexit takes us. Resistance is EU-less. And demanding a re-run just plain daft.
No matter how many Regrexiters throw up their hands and cry that honestly they just wanted to send a message not, you know, to actually leave ...
No matter how many Remainers sign online petitions demanding another crack at the thing ...
The deed is done, the die as cast. We're all Out.
But it is a surreal political landscape that now greets us.
As a pointer that this may be life but not as we know it, back here Ian Paisley has advised that now might be a good time to get an Irish passport. Ian Paisley. Urging you to get an Irish passport.
Alternatively Ian, you could hang back, wait until after the next independence referendum and get yourself a Scottish one.
It's life imitating Da from the Hole in the Wall Gang.
And suddenly everyone's an economist. People you wouldn't normally trust to tot up a bookie's docket are suddenly able to predict with absolute certainty our fiscal future. They quote headline figures - most of which are inaccurate to start with - to back extravagant claims of either boom or bust.
If only the Governor of the Bank of England could sound so certain.
And it might be easier to view Brexit as a canny economic move if we didn't have all those unsettling front page graphs where the trajectory of Sterling (or, as the national currency is now generally termed, The Plunging Pound) is depicted by what resembles a White Cliff of Dover.
Of course, it could be, as some experts insist, a temporary blip. But whether The Plunging Pound will have regrouped before peak holiday season (ie. end of this week) is debatable.
And meanwhile the inevitable political power play continues. Boris, as expected, is positioning himself for Tory glory. Project Fear he assures us, is now over. To be replaced by Project Extremely Alarmed, Boris?
While this goes on in the blue corner, in the red corner Jeremy Corbyn has shown more tenacity this week in hanging on to the job than even Louis van Gaal. Jezza refused to Jexit. The entire Shadow Cabinet resigned. He just appointed another one.
It was like watching that child's game where you thump pop-up characters on the head with a small mallet. There goes another one. Whack!
And as for us here .... consensus on what happens next has been in as short supply as Irish passport application forms.
We're going to have a border poll. No, we're not. We're going to bring back border checks. No, we're not. We'll have our own independence referendum. We'll snooker Westminster's plans for Brexit ...
About the only option not suggested is the re-establishment of the Kingdom of Dalriada.
But give it time ...
How the Dalriadan groat compares to the Euro I'm not sure. But the way things are going, I'd hazard a guess the exchange rate is currently more favourable than the rate of Euro to Plunging Pound.
Fans show politicians how to make peace
What a positive mood both Northern Ireland and the Republic's football teams and their respective - and sometimes mutual - fans have created in the last couple of weeks in France.
Not just the players but all of those fabulous fans - they have all been an absolute credit to this part of the world.
And a force for harmony.
As my son Micah put it: "The Euros have done more for the peace process than the peace process ever did for the peace process."
The Queen's arrival simply left me in a blur
I was in a car going into the George Best Belfast City Airport on Monday evening just as Her Majesty the Queen was being driven out. She was so close, gazing out of her Range Rover window resplendent in mint green. I tried to get the mobile to take a pic. No joy. What I got was the back of the motorcycle escort. How do other people react so quickly to get the sort of footage they regularly show on the Sky evening news? Some people seem to have been born with the paparazzi gene. It's beyond me.