THAT`LL TEACH ME

Yesterday, in a rare fit of indolence, I watched Prime Minister`s Questions live and direct from the mother of Parliaments.

Things started off in sombre mood, as Tony Blair read out the distressingly long list of our servicemen and women lost in the cauldrons of Iraq and Afghanistan since the last sitting of Parliament before the Easter break. A quite proper and dignified remembrance, echoed by the other party leaders.

From then on, however, things went rapidly downhill. A series of questions were either not answered or were evaded and, whenever a critical issue raised, it seemed always to be someone else`s fault.

But the real criticism I have is the seemingly endless barracking, hooting and shouting heaped upon particular MPs as they tried to ask what seemed to be quite reasonable questions. Now, I have absolutely no political allegiences at all; as far as I`m concerned, MPs are - with the odd exception - overpaid, self-serving chancers, who inspire little confidence and almost total distrust.

But I did feel for Norman Baker who was on the receiving end of the most shrill of verbal onslaughts....and for Simon Hughes, who was not only also shouted down but also told by the Speaker that his question had gone on for too long. Reminded me of Clive Thomas refereeing that World Cup match years ago, when he awarded a corner (to Brazil, I think) but blew the final whistle just before the ball nestled in the back of the net. Political football is clearly alive and well and living in the Westminster village.

The more PMQs went on, the more the process descended into farce until, in the end, the notion of parliamentary democracy became something of a parody of itself. But perhaps the most depressing aspect was that, by the end of Prime Minister`s Questions , those opening respectful, sombre acknowledgements to our fallen heroes and heroines had been completely forgotten in the clamour of party political rant and counter-rant.

The admirable principle of `representation of the people` seems to have become a contradiction in terms, when played out by the self-serving, the self-righteous and the self-indulgent.

You may take it that I was underwhelmed.....and that I promise not to slip into indolence any more at 12.00noon on a Wednesday.