The siege of Vestas has been lifted, and the bailiffs have moved in to perform that most historic British duty - to evict the squatters preventing the masters from getting what they want.
One wonders how long it will be before the old law, whereby a servant could only sue the master for breach of contract whereas the master could prosecute the servant, is returned to the statute book.
As time passes, and one realises one might make oneself anathema for saying so, the more ambivalent one also becomes to the United Kingdom's armed forces. Not to those who serve in them, of course, but to the mindset in which they are trained. They fight 'For Queen and Country'; and with a sense of foreboding, one feels that if their fellow citizens were to present a perceived threat to the security of either queen or country, the British armed forces would somehow feel less compunction about following shoot to kill orders directed against their neighbours than would Americans in similar circumstances.
The question of whether Peter Mandelson feels any sense of shame could provide psychiatric historians with enough material for 12 volumes - yet it was just a few days ago that one realised that he seems to have no sense of honour. Even as recently as 30 years ago, if a Cabinet minister resigned in disgrace he would retire to the back benches and stay there - they would consider it to be the honourable thing to do.
Mandelson has been disgraced twice. The word 'disgraced' is not too strong to describe the circumstances which led to both his evictions from Downing Street's Big Brother house. It is possible to be both shameless and honourable - the good whore is one of bad literature's stock characters.
Yet Mandelson's continued thumbing of his nose at convention, this time by again holidaying with a Rothschild while his fellow countrymen are enduring tough times as a direct consequence of policies he has been at the centre of, shows him to have no sense of honour. He doesn't realise how bad this looks, for he doesn't care how bad it looks. It's what he wants, and nobody is going to stop him. The people have had enough of our politicians, those whose wages we pay, cavorting with the rich in their playgrounds. A man with a sense of honour would understand this - having none himself, Mandelson clearly does not. Without a sense of honour, a sense that one has a reputation that must be upheld, one can have no sense of responsibility; a sense that it's up to you preserve your good name.
As Mandelson himself might say, his lips twisted in the mocking sneer of the elites, 'What's that?'