Boris Johnson might look like a sheepdog, but there’s nothing common about the new Mayor of London. And he’s perfectly comfortable with this fact too, freely discussing his days at Eton and Oxford, where he was a member of the Bullingdon. Never heard of the Bullingdon? Well, imagine the richest snob at Princeton’s most elite eating-club, multiply his sense-of-entitlement by a thousand, and you have the average member of the Bullingdon. It’s the Ivy on crack. It’s Skull & Bones for the British. It’s a Porcellian not full of white trash. Members of the Bullingdon dress up in bespoke $6,000 tails, book restaurants under assumed names, then trash the places. When they don’t end up in jail, they toss wads of cash at the owner on the way out. By comparison to some of his more colorful peers, Johnson could be said to live a rather modest existence. Consider Count Gottfried von Bismarck (descendent of Otto), a fellow member. According to the coroner, Bismarck’s body had the highest levels of cocaine in it he had ever observed. His body was discovered among several items that must go unmentioned by this family-friendly blog. What’s remarkable about Johnson though is that he doesn’t talk down to anyone. He is happy with who he is, and doesn’t omit the literary and historical allusions on the stump. His speeches are smart, even if he occasionally lets loose with something objectionable. This is refreshing compared to America, where Ivy League educated pols are expected to wolf down corndogs and fried dough at agricultural fairs and pretend they like it. Which isn’t to say this has always been the case. Bobby Kennedy quoted Aeschylus in discussing the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. The days of politicians citing Greek tragedies, I’m afraid, are over–in the States at least.
