We’re not in mood for a Friday night leave party

An extravagant lightshow is being prepared for the government buildings of Whitehall.

No10 will be lit up like a funfair and a giant clock face projected on to its black brick walls, counting down the last few minutes.

Parliament Square will be festooned in Union Jacks and 25,000 people will gather there to celebrate under the sightless eyes of Winston Churchill’s statue (lucky Winston).

Well, Master of Ceremonies Nigel Farage claims 25,000 people will join him there for a divorce party he’s been given permission to stage.

But as we can’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth, it could very well turn out to be three Leave nutters singing Rule Britannia while a scabby greyhound howls along.

Nonetheless, come 11pm on

Friday, it’s over. We’re out of the EU. The terrible triple whammy of “things-you-pray-will-never-happen” will be complete.

First Trump as president, then

BoJo as PM and now – finally – Brexit. Feeling tearful yet? Me too.

That it has come to this is bad enough. That we are leaving with such an undignified performance, officially sanctioned and organised, is truly horrifying.

That images of the Little Englander celebrations in London will be broadcast around the world as some truthful representation of how this country feels about Brexit turns the stomach. Dancing in the street like we won a war? How offensive. Celebrating like we have overthrown a tyrant? Repugnant.

The UK was not subjugated or oppressed by the EU. It was a willing member and prime operator within it.

It hasn’t won its independence. It was always independent. It is insulting to those other member states to suggest otherwise. And it is hugely insulting to us Scots.

All three of the devolved legislatures – the Scottish Parliament and the Welsh and Northern Ireland Assemblies – have just voted to reject Johnson’s withdrawal bill which, democracy demands, should prevent Brexit going ahead on his terms.

But the PM can ignore democratic will when it suits him. Then rub our noses it in by throwing a party to celebrate.

The frothy-mouthed Leavers will party on so long as they get blue passports back again (who cares), get to “take back control” (it was never lost) and get squillions of pounds diverted straight into our NHS (not going to happen). Johnson had to ditch his jolly plan of asking the public to “bung a bob for a Big Ben bong” so that the nation’s most famous bell could literally ring us out of Europe.

Funnily enough, he hadn’t thought through how that would all work, given that Big Ben is being restored so is not in use at all and given that there’s no obvious way to accept public donations for such a gesture.

Not like our PM to come up with an off-the-cuff plan without a clue of how to achieve it, is it? That’s how Brexit happened in the first place. Bodes well for our future in his hands, does it not?

Friday is really just the beginning of the end, of course. It’s the start of a soft-pedal transition period which lasts till December 31 when the harsh reality of Brexit awaits us.

We can only trust that Europe leaves the door unlocked and a light on in the window for us because the only certainty in all of this is that we’ll be back, either as the UK or, more likely, as Scotland. The quicker, the better.

Incidentally, Brussels retains one last influence over the UK’s moment of departure. We’re leaving at the rather unusual time of 11pm because it will be midnight on the continent.

So Farage and his ilk will be dancing to Europe’s tune right up till the end. And the only thing that could make that more pleasing is a thunderstorm over central London on Friday night.