Frankly, I couldn’t give a flying fudge about Sir Lindsay Hoyle’s remorse. Nor may I care much less concerning the chiselling chancers on all sides of the House fiddling whereas Gaza burns.
People are lifeless. Gaza is in ashes. China has joined the rising listing of nations calling for a direct ceasefire with 700,000 displaced Palestinians on the threat of hunger following Israel’s bombardment – on the again of 29,500 lifeless, almost 12,000 of them kids.
What is our so-called Mother of all Parliaments doing? Grandstanding, throwing metaphorical custard pies, ducking, diving and back-covering behind amendments.
And they marvel why younger individuals suppose so little of our so-called elected representatives. Some children watching – and even adults – would have questioned what all of the chaos was all about, then given up making an attempt to grasp when the Speaker’s lack of authority grew to become plainly obvious as he struggled to talk with out being heckled.
Embarrassment doesn’t come near summing all of it up. At occasions it seemed like a chucking out time at a metropolis pub on a Friday evening. Or that time at a drinks do when everybody has put a lot away they turn into vocally and emotionally incontinent.
Our MPs and their leaders will rock up on a TV or perhaps a doorstep close to you quickly, bleating about their integrity and begging in your votes. Before then they’ll be stampeding to the ethical excessive floor when another person’s conduct falls under the place it ought to be, to sentence them with out an oz. of self-awareness.
Remember the shambles on the night of Wednesday, February 21 once they do.