Keir Starmer: Next.

 Keir Starmer, the prime minister, resigned today. The chin went as he stood at the lectern outside number 10, with his quite remarkably attractive wife at his side. His voice quivered as he resolved to spend more time with her. As wooden spoons go it's not a bad one. He's not been a great Prime Minister. He was tin-eared and stubborn, inarticulate and wooden. It's hard to imagine he was a prosecutor. He's no Rumpole. He put a lot of weight behind some stupid things - attempting to court, coquettishly, the far right, a surprising move for the leader of the Labour party, and his ongoing silence on Palestine was ludicrous. Arresting some protesting hippies as terrorists and sending them to prison, while actual fascist puppets ran amok at the end of my street, burning out houses and closing down business and services and hoping to murder some black people. But no, the retired sociology lecturer with the placard is an enemy of the state. 

During Starmer's tearful resignation speech someone was playing "Ode To Joy" in the background. Trolled to the end. 

He's been bullied out of office. The media have hounded the Prime Minister out of the role in less than two years. Starmer didn't want to go. He thinks he's been pretty cool. But he's had his Julius Caesar moment. Nobody likes the Prime Minister. He has no friends. The press have been calling him a useless cunt from day one, and while he has largely lived up to it, it's less than two years, after the Tories had been in power for fourteen. This represents the sixth Prime Ministerial resignation in less than ten years. The job becomes meaningless if it continues as this clown car vomitorium. Andy Burnham, a politician you can easily imagine playing bass in Northern Uproar, looks to be the new Prime Minister, though he's been an MP for less than a week. Wes Streeting, whose demeanour is exactly that of Jim Broadbent in Victoria Wood's "An Ordinary Man" sketch - no really, have a look - is nowhere. Obliterated. The only thing more obliterated than Wes Streeting is the Conservative party, who have shrunk to nothing, like a popped blister on a yellow heel. Amazing. 

The BBC have been following Andy Burnham's journey from Manchester to London, using drones, and hanging around Euston station in massive press packs, filming confused tourists while commentators ask, "Oooh, is that him?" and noting he could get compensation for his train being delayed. They recorded the journey in real time. The last time they did this, it was the Queen's corpse they were tracking, so Andy's hit the big time. 

What's fueling all this is the media's aching hard on for Nigel Farage. Not Reform who, if Farage was gone, would pop like a bubble of stink. It's Farage they love. Farage, last seen after Andy Burnham trounced Reforms div of a candidate, hiding in a field, has appeared once again in his shitty blue suit, demanding an election, something he failed to do during the endless rounds of the Tory cabinet all getting a go at the big job. Farage will pop up when someone else is having a bad day. When his own party fucks up, which it does every day, it's back to the field for Nigel, issuing another of his "essays". But when someone else is in trouble, there he is, putting the boot in, the snide kid getting license from the big bully to have a go. The big bully is the media and, likely, the malign interests of internationalist billionaires. Conspiracy theories, John? 

Well, they're not exactly shy these days, are they? Not shadowy any more. There's no theory. The world is an Oligarchy. If the President of the United States can be bought and sold, the billionaires can flick Starmer off the board like a Subbuteo figure. 

People are saying Trump got the scoop on his resignation, announcing it before Starmer did, which Piers Morgan thought was HILARIOUS. Trump blamed Starmer's failure on immigration and not exploiting North Sea oil, because of course he fucking did. Trump's an idiot. Trump's not Nostradamus. He shits out a diarrhetic tsunami of nonsense every day. He has to get one right occasionally. 

There's been a red warning for extreme heat issued for this week. You don't have to tell Keir Starmer. Maybe he should run for Mayor of Manchester. There's a vacancy. And I hear it rains.