QUENTIN LETTS: Sir Big-Ed has change into that dreaded factor

Sir Edward Davey’s conference speech? A digestive challenge. Last weekend, I met a Herefordshire woman who on foreign travels had eaten lion meat and pronounced it ‘disgusting’.

Even an Elsa burger might have been easier to keep down than the gumbo of sentimental tripe served up yesterday by Sir Big-Ed.

It was just after lunch that the Lib Dems‘ contingent of MPs took to the Brighton stage, ­waving to a chorus of activists’ whoops.

As they kept coming – the Commons is now blessed with 72 Libs – it was a striking moment that demonstrated the party’s newly-won parliamentary clout. Then Sir Ed arrived and any sense of history was squandered to egotistical gut-rot.

As he came swaggering on with a look-at-me grin, the sound ­system struck up Abba‘s Take A Chance On Me.

Liberal Democrat leader Sir Ed Davey arriving on stage to give his keynote speech at the party’s autumn conference at the Brighton Centre on Tuesday

It was just after lunch that the Lib Dems ‘ contingent of MPs took to the Brighton stage, ­waving to a chorus of activists’ whoops. (Ed Davey during his keynote speech)

As he came swaggering on with a look-at-me grin, the sound ­system struck up Abba ‘s Take A Chance On Me. (Ed Davey smiles and waves during the Liberal Democrat conference)

The hall clapped to the beat. Those poor MPs, all too visible on stage, felt they had to do the same. Sir Ed started singing. One uses the verb in its broadest sense. He is more Florence Foster Jenkins than Caruso. Strangulated, semi-castrato squeaking ensued, mercifully for not too long.

During the General Election, to stop people thinking about his involvement in the Post Office Horizon scandal, Sir Ed portrayed himself as a japester.

He has become that terrible thing, the dullard who thinks he is a card. He is now prone to saying ‘you’ve got to have a laugh’ before adding ‘but no, folks, seriously’ and then turning mawkish.

Heavily made-up, he strutted across the stage without use of a lectern. For the next hour he alternated between sub-Bob Monkhouse monologues and political use of his son’s disability.

He pointed his right index finger at the audience like a TV gameshow host. Left eye narrowing, his head nodding at all the acclaim, he said how ‘humbled’ he was.

‘D’ya know, they wanted me to wear a wet suit today,’ he yacked. Pause for light laughter. ‘I said it was abseiling or nothing!’ He chuckled heartily at his own joke. Some of the MPs behind him smiled but Layla Moran could have done with a tickling stick.

He claimed that in the campaign it was only health and safety laws that stopped him ‘putting my hand up a cow’s behind’. Pity he didn’t plunge his head in one, some may think. There was much, much gloating. After a successful election, a party is entitled to some crowing but the wise politician does not overdo it.

Sir Ed boasted that the Lib Dems now had a monopoly on political trust and on ‘listening to people’. One wonders if those postmasters agree.

He pointed his right index finger at the audience like a TV gameshow host. (Lib Dem leader on stage in Brighton)

How natural are the pauses and gulps, those little jinks of head to flick back the tears?

I thought I was inured to Americanised gloop. But this speech was as filthy as anything I have known. (Ed Davey gives his keynote speech)

Then, he spoke of his teenage son John, who is disabled. Sir Ed is not the first party leader to have had a badly disabled boy. Tricky subject. It can feel honest or it can feel manipulative.

How natural are the pauses and gulps, those little jinks of head to flick back the tears? You may hate me for saying so – but I found this rehearsed.

He claimed he was dwelling on his own circumstances merely to help other carers. The left eye ­narrowed again – a hard look – and he ground his jaw with satisfaction. Then he urged the Lib Dems to avoid the old politics that ‘tries to divide us and looks for the worst in people’.

With almost his next breath he claimed that ‘Conservatives don’t care’ about anyone except themselves, that the Tory leadership contenders were all contemptible and that the Lib Dems would soon put the bastards out of business.

Cue closing credits and Sweet Caroline, which saw Sir Ed ­disco-dancing on stage and ­disporting himself, drunk on his own brilliance.

Having had a front seat for the Blair era and having lived a few years in Kentucky and New York, I thought I was inured to Americanised gloop. But this speech was as filthy as anything I have known.