“The state is a ship lost in a storm, but the individual is the anchor. Also, the state’s crew are drunk.” – Plato……..if he’d met Starmer
When Storm Floris rampaged through the UK with howling gales, it didn’t just uproot trees and campervans—it caught Keir Starmer’s government with its trousers down, clutching a soggy memo titled “How to Look Busy.” Trains stalled, 43,000 homes went dark, and the Edinburgh Fringe was cancelled faster than a Tory’s principles. Meanwhile, Whitehall’s finest offered a “resilience room” that sounds like a broom cupboard for brainstorming biscuits. Feniks Knows Best: Plato knew true power lies in the self-reliant soul and the community, not in pinstriped pillocks faffing about in a crisis. So, grab a cuppa and let’s dissect this windy shambles—how’s your town dodging this storm cock-up?
Floris: A Storm That Laughed at Our Infrastructure
On August 4, 2025, Storm Floris—the sixth named tantrum of the 2024-25 season—hit northern Britain like a philosophical sledgehammer wielded by a ticked-off Zeus. It felled trees, flipped campervans on the A87, and turned the A96 into an arboreal obstacle course. Over 43,000 Scottish homes lost power, with 2,700 in Ireland still fumbling for candles by dusk. Transport was a farce—LNER, Avanti West Coast, and ScotRail cancelled trains across the north, with delays dragging into Tuesday. Ferries to the islands? Scrapped. The Edinburgh Fringe lost 110 shows, the Royal Military Tattoo was silenced, and tourists dodged rogue wheelie bins. The Met Office issued amber “danger to life” warnings for Scotland and yellow alerts elsewhere, muttering about flying debris and waves with a vendetta. Scottish and Southern Electricity Networks called it “the most damaging summer storm in recent memory.” Translation: we’re knackered.
This wasn’t just weather—it was a cosmic audit of Britain’s backbone. Spoiler: the government’s spine is made of damp biscuits.
Starmer’s Washout: Leadership as Useful as a Paper Brolly
Keir Starmer, the chap who promised a “decade of national renewal,” can’t renew a bus pass, let alone a nation. His “Plan for Change” bangs on about banning ninja swords and building 40,000 homes, but when Floris sent campervans airborne, his government was too busy tweeting to notice the A96 was a tree graveyard. The response? Less a plan, more a shrug in a suit. Scottish minister Angela Constance suggested treating travel like a “winter journey”—brilliant, shall we pack a sledge and some mince pies, Angela? After Storm Éowyn’s chaos in January, you’d think power lines would be tougher than a soggy Rich Tea, but no—43,000 homes went dark. The Scottish “resilience room” was activated, which sounds like a few civil servants arguing over who nicked the last Hobnob. Network Rail battled branches and, in Merseyside, a rogue gazebo (because nothing screams “crisis” like a flying garden tent). Exam results to islands? Late, because Royal Mail thought Floris was just a stiff breeze.
Starmer’s X posts boast of hiring 2,000 GPs, but his 23% approval rating and “loveless landslide” victory scream one thing: centralized systems are slower than a British Rail sandwich. Plato would’ve rolled his eyes—Starmer’s less a philosopher-king, more a philosopher-clerk, lost in his own filing cabinet.
Plato’s Lesson: The Polis Sees the Light
Plato, the beardy Greek who saw through authority’s fog, would’ve had a field day with Floris. In his Republic, he argued that true governance starts in the soul—reason mastering fear and desire—not in some Whitehall wally waving a clipboard. Floris was Plato’s cave allegory in action: Starmer’s suits are chained in the shadows, mesmerized by illusions of control, while the polis—self-governing locals—steps into the light of resilience. On Skye, neighbors rescued drivers from campervans auditioning for Mad Max. In North Berwick, Fringe by the Sea organizers pivoted to indoor venues faster than you can say “soggy baguette.” Elle Duffy on the Isle of Rum turned her bunkhouse into a camper haven, no government PowerPoint required. This is Plato’s polis: people acting with wisdom, not waiting for a memo.
Plato warned of rulers who chase power over truth, mistaking red tape for results. Starmer’s “resilience room” is peak Platonic irony—a shadow on the cave wall, not a solution. Why trust a state that buckles when a breeze gets bolshy? True strength lies in the individual’s reason, honed by community ties. In Portstewart, RNLI lifeguards braved gales to plant warning flags. In Glasgow, citizens dodged falling roofs with more grit than a government press release. Plato’s ideal isn’t a nanny state cooing “avoid forests” (cheers, Jim Dale); it’s a society where souls govern themselves, building resilience no storm can shake.
eniks Knows Best: Be Your Own Philosopher-King
Floris isn’t just a storm—it’s a middle finger to centralized incompetence. Plato’s wisdom says you don’t need Starmer’s soggy script to survive. The Met Office bleats about “uncharted territory” with summer storms, yet the government was caught napping like a pensioner after Sunday roast. Feniks Knows Best: channel your inner philosopher-king. Here’s how to outwit the next gale:
- Fortify Your Castle: Stock torches, batteries, and a power bank. Floris left 43,000 homes dark—don’t be left squinting at a candle.
- Build Your Polis: Form a neighborhood WhatsApp before the next storm. It’s faster than Whitehall’s carrier pigeon.
- Back the Locals: Support Fringe venues hit by cancellations. They’re your town’s pulse, not Starmer’s photo ops.
- Question the Codswallop: When the government says “we’ve got this,” ask why trains are still knackered and exam results are lost in the post.
Your Turn: What’s the Dafiest Government Guff?
Floris showed us the truth: when the wind howls, it’s not Starmer’s suits saving the day—it’s you, your neighbors, your polis. Plato would raise a glass to that. So, what’s the daftest government advice you got during Floris? Or did your neighbors outsmart the suits? Spill it in the comments or on X with #FlorisFiasco. Let’s show Keir what a self-governing polis can do when the weather’s more chaotic than his cabinet.
References
- Storm Floris brings winds of 100mph, travel disruption and power cuts to UK | The Guardian – www.theguardian.com
- UK, Scotland, and Wales Struggle with Storm Floris as Tourism and Travel Face Widespread Disruptions | Travel and Tour World – www.travelandtourworld.com
- More than 43,000 homes lose power as Storm Floris brings gusts of up to 82 mph | BBC News – www.bbc.co.uk
- Storm Floris live updates: Rail disruption likely to continue for another day after 90mph winds hit UK | The Independent – www.independent.co.uk
- Storm Floris batters Britain as fallen trees and 90mph winds cause travel chaos | Daily Mail – www.dailymail.co.uk
- UK weather warnings – Met Office – weather.metoffice.gov.uk
- Storm Floris: ‘Danger to life’ weather warning as UK battered by 107mph winds | The Telegraph – www.telegraph.co.uk
- Amber warnings of damage and disruption as Storm Floris sweeps in | BBC News – www.bbc.co.uk
- Storm Éowyn – Hansard – UK Parliament – hansard.parliament.uk
- One Year In, U.K. Prime Minister Keir Starmer Is Even Less Popular | The New York Times – www.nytimes.com
- Posted by: @Keir_Starmer, 02:18 2025-08-01 CDT
- Posted by: @Keir_Starmer, 04:39 2025-07-24 CDT