I used to find it quite an appealing idea to watch my government debate one another on various important issues.

This now false belief that these elite of the elite, experts in their fields, passionate individuals destined to make this country greater, would be battling it out using vocabulary I had never learnt, on TV for free. Parliament was iconic.

Then I actually started doing it from time to time and, well, disappointment doesn't begin to describe it.

The British have done nothing in recent years but to vote in phone-addicted, ideological chimpanzees, cockroaches, and snakes.

When this one very eloquent senior MP (Whom I've never heard of) went off on a 20 minute speech on the existentially important debate of scrapping trial by jury for small-medium crimes, a man who had spent 40 years in the very field as judge, it brings me nothing but despair to look around him and listen to the room. The environment is a fucking kindergarten.

On his own side, his own party, look at all those scrolling on their phones. Some angles, you can see they're just chatting.

Others are slovenly leaning back exposing their fat gut as if he's on a cruise ship deck chair:

Sit the fuck up, you're at work. And lay of the foie gras while you're at it.

The room on the whole was largely empty, the majority failing to bother even turning up. Why bother when it's not mandatory?

The opponents, full of subversives and Marxists who hold nothing but hatred and resentment for our thousand years of history, tradition and heritage, spend the entire 20 minutes constantly talking over him, chatting amongst themselves, laughing, mocking something that shouldn't in any civilized society be an even remotely controversial issue.

Then, elsewhere, the new Green Party MP decides the most suitable thing to uphold our tradition of respectable attire puts on a literal clown costume and white trainers to give a little speech about how great other people have been telling her she is, like this is all one big opportunity to get more Instagram followers:

(A woman who, as it happens, blames the Manchester arena bombing on people being divisive and racist.)

Then of course we have whatever the fuck this is, sleeping on the job:

Turns out she's the Trade Envoy to New Zealand. I guess she doesn't really have anything better to do after all.

What are we doing?

What is this? What have we become? This is the room and the people running the country?

Oh so women need to dress the way MEN tell them to, you sexist pig

Says somebody in my head.

I will pre-empt by saying, if a man turned up in clown shoes, a bright purple haircut and started zoom calling his friends while a debate on going to war with Iran was heating up, I would be calling him out just as much.

Dress properly, you're at work, you're meant to be British. Sit up. Wake up. Shut up.

I can't believe these people need to be spoken to like middle school children. Present yourselves like respectable English folk. If you want to live in a world without our traditions and precedence, then you can feck off and become a play-MP in Bali with your little laptop and phone and sewage green wardrobe.

You can look respectable while still representing progressive politics.

And that's the thing. If these people were sitting in an office doing sales or something, fine, whatever.

But these people are meant to be representing the best of the best. They're meant to show us and the world what we're capable of. The formidable leaders who can take us into the future with hope and wisdom.

Instead we get a playground of people who don't seem remotely interested in doing their job outside of the frequent payraises and free accommodation on the taxpayer's dime.

Nobody wants this. We all want more of that man doing the speech. If you get your phone out it better be because somebody is dying, at which point you quietly leave the room.

If I was in charge I would have a molten pot of lava in the corner where all phones that get taken out of pocket are immediately dunked, cooled, then handed back.

No wonder the country has gone to shit. No wonder we're an international joke. The 'Sick man of Europe'. Nobody in power is taking seriously the fact that nobody can afford to live and nobody feels safe, nobody feels like the government has their back, nobody can get a business running without being taxed into bankruptcy, nobody can get an appointment for the critical heart attack they just endured.

But more importantly, what shade of clown pink shirt should I put on today?

/rant