I am ill. Like, ill with a capital ‘I’. So I’m a little out of touch this week with events in the political world.
It’s some sort of version of the flu, I reckon, but I’ve never known anything quite like it. In bed since Tuesday night and used my phone to do all my Christmas shopping at about 2am on Thursday with a temperature of, like, 110 degrees.
Very unsettling to wake up later that day completely skint and with a variety of odd and completely inappropriate gifts winging their way across the country. Quite what my Auntie Pam is going to make of a ticket to the Mixed Martial Arts event Cage Warriors at the O2 is beyond me.
Keir Mudie says Rishi Sunak doesn't have long left as Tory leaderBut it’s the thought that counts, I guess. And it’s a good seat. People in this game have very little sympathy for illness – which is fair. Phone calls go like this: “Keir. How are you doing?”
“Well, mate, not going to lie, I don’t think I’m long for this worl-”. “That’s great. Have you heard about Scott Benton?”
Queen honoured in London New Year's fireworks before turning into King Charles
I hadn’t, indeed, heard about the Conservative MP for Blackpool South Mr Benton’s 35-day suspension from Parliament – on account of when the news broke I was going through some sort of hallucination about being on a cargo ship. It doesn’t surprise me, though. I think I read somewhere that disgraced Tories are now one of the largest groups in Parliament. I might have dreamt it, though, like I dreamt the other night the bloke from Wizzard was after me.
(It alarmed me so much I must have made a note of it in the early hours and, let me tell you, there’s nothing so disconcerting as waking up to a message – written in an alien hand – that says: “Roy Wood is trying to kill you.”) Anyways. Another by-election on the way. It looks increasingly like rather than voting the Tories out wholesale at a General Election, they’re going to get picked off one by one, like a really, really, bad version of Squid Game.
More misery for Mr Sunak, to add to the horror show that was the Rwanda vote on Tuesday. I was relatively healthy then but, with hindsight, watching that full debate and the circus that surrounded it might not have done me any good.
Still, much better to be a rancid, bed-ridden ball of sweat than Mr Sunak right now. Horrible festive season in store for the PM. Nothing less than he deserves, though. A Scrooge who hasn’t learned any lessons, despite what the ghosts are telling him.
I will leave it there. There’s not much I can offer in the way of insight this week – other than to make sure you get your flu jabs. I’m back to bed and my treatment plan of Lemsip, whisky and chicken soup. To be honest, not a million miles from my usual diet. I’m away next week, so I wish you a peaceful Christmas.
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