It’s only a year ago, but I struggle to recall with any clarity every aspect that made up the sheer volume of endless noise around the impending referendum. I have to admit I glazed over and lost interest. I doubt I was alone. Somehow we got tangled up in emotive arguments about immigration, terrorism and the NHS, against a backdrop of dead babies on a beach and a big red bus promising £350 million a week. Not to mention ‘making Britain Great again’, the preservation of Brtishness and generally coming to the end of the collective tether with the new breed of cynical politicians, while Boris became a Brexit earworm by the power of bafoonery alone.
The Remain voice was too often just a doom laden squeak in the background from an array of experts and the odd industrialist and wealthy person; the very people us Brits are guaranteed to ignore.