At the risk of coming across all Little England, I will tell you, I do enjoy a good national day of mourning. I’m spiritually rejuvenated by the coming together of the nation to reflect on the sacrifices others made for us, and on the injustice of those taken from us far too soon. When the nation is bereft, we console ourselves by holding hands, bowing our heads, and remembering.

That’s why I’d like to propose a new national day of mourning for the recent, sad loss of David Cameron’s Brexit renegotiation plan. It seems only yesterday, or maybe the day before, around 7 a.m., that Dave gave us the sobering news of its passing. Like many of you, I still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing on that solemn hour of that inauspicious day: on the train, reading the back of someone’s Daily Mirror. (For the record: DM, there are only two “o”s in “Rooney”, no matter how many runs he scores.)

The date I propose for our national day of mourning is Monday May 9, 2016, which some will recognize as the latter of two Europe Days. I chose this day because we have to recognize that it isn’t just we Brits who have lost a dear friend. The whole of Europe is grief stricken by the passing of Cameron’s Brexit negotiations. The day we choose should be a day that honours the people of Europe as well as we Brits, a day of ever closer union of abject misery, a day that also pays fitting tribute to the EU for having the bureaucratic dexterity to create a redundant holiday for an elusive cause.

Our chosen day of mourning must also pay tribute to David Cameron, whose loss is surely the deepest. It was Cameron who took the Brexit renegotiations in when nobody else wanted them. Fed them. Dressed them up. Presented them to the world as his own. Only to see them cut down by a cruel, cruel world for which they were just too beautiful.

Dave’s torture has been unbearable to witness since that tragic loss. He’s now to be found in Brussels bus shelters, wearing nothing but an Aston Villa scarf, shaking his futile fist of rage at startled refugees and backpackers, cursing Nigel Farage and babbling breathlessly in tongues of the communitarian Rapture. We must help our Dave, our leader, out of his personal Hell. You see, only by helping Dave can we ever hope to help ourselves. Je Suis Dave. Nous Sommes Dave. Et, oui: Dave est Dave. Quelle fromage.

So I ask you — I beseech you — my fellow hard working and compassionate British islanders: join me in my request  — nay, demand! — for the creation of the BrexNeg RIP National Day of Mourning, to be staged on May 9, 2016.

If the mood is right, the wind is favourable, and the library computers aren’t too busy, I plan to present my entreaty for a BrexNeg RIP day of national mourning to the people of these fair isles in the form of an online petition to Dave and the others in Whitehall. Such a devastating loss to the  nation can not go unmarked, and a Parliamentary debate will give our noble parliamentarians and, through them, our brave nation the chance it so desperately needs to talk through our grief and to heal.

In the spirit of consolation and national unity, I invite others grieving over this sad loss to pay your tributes, make your suggestions, and share your pain in the comment section below.

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