It’s been a couple of months now and even the most jaded observer would have to admit it’s been fun. Bath-plugs, wide-screen LCDs, bookcases, duck-houses, wisteria/moat-clearing, biscuits, 1p phone bills, fright-wigs for charity bashes, poppies, new bathrooms, porn-videos and of course, the ‘flipping’ of houses. The public reputation of our Members of Parliament has, incredibly, sunk further than ever before. Considering that in national polls before this scandal broke, MPs regularly occupied a lower position in our regard than even estate agents (but still above, of course, journalists), this new level of opprobrium is some achievement. Not so much bottom of the barrel but a breaking through the bottom of the barrel and tunnelling into the floor below. However, though rage has been justifiably great and the calls for the bastards to be strung-up/electrocuted/made to appear on Celebrity Big Brother ever-louder, I’m going to add a note of caution to this.
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