With the top dog away, Labour's deputy, Harriet Harman, tries a gag or two to unsettle her counterpart at PMQs
There seemed to be no obvious reason for David Cameron's absence on Wednesday. But all prime ministers like to fit in at least one trip to Israel during their time in office and Cameron was running out of time for his chance to claim direct descendancy from Moses.
Which left Ed Miliband at something of a loose end with no prime minister's questions. Hence his speech saying yes, no, well, um, maybe later, to a Europe referendum.
Not that it mattered. Whatever he says these days he only has an audience of six. Or seven, if you include his wife. Which you probably shouldn't as she must have learnt how to tune out by now.
How Nick Clegg must have wished there were so few people listening to him at deputy PMQs. Clegg now prefers to keep humans at the other end of an LBC phone line. Call it damage limitation. In the Commons he has no choice but to take the abuse head on.
With the Lib Dems having recently lost a council election to a bus-pass Elvis impersonator, the Labour backbencher Kevin Brennan feebly punned that Clegg "ain't nothing but a lapdog".
This wasn't particularly funny and missed the point. A lapdog is loved and cherished. Clegg is hated by almost everyone. Labour hate him, the Tories barely bother to conceal their contempt for him, and his own party recognise him as a complete liability, with Danny Alexander now openly mounting a leadership campaign against him.
Though why he should want to when the Lib Dems may barely exist after the next election, is anyone's guess. Will the last person in the bunker please put the cyanide back in the cupboard? Even Clegg's reflection probably hates him; when he looks in the mirror he must see someone pointing back and laughing at him.
The main exchanges were between Clegg and his opposite number, Harriet Harman. The Labour deputy has far more presence than her leader (not difficult) and she briefly threatened to unsettle Clegg by challenging him on the Lib Dems' backing for the government's care bill that his party had initially opposed.
At which point Clegg started to windmill his arms in an effort to appear assertive and manly, while insisting black was white, or if not white then definitely magnolia. Didn't work for me.
Then Harman blew it by trying to tell a gag that must have been written by one of the 12-year-old apparatchiks who now run large parts of the Labour party. "On Sunday the deputy prime minister shared with us everything that he loves about Britain," she said in a strangely flat monotone. "He loves his cup of tea, he loves the shipping forecast and he loves … um … er … er ... um ... flip-flops."
Reading out Christmas cracker jokes must be a highlight of the year chez Harman. It was a crap gag even before she messed up the delivery and her moment was gone. Still, unlike Ed, she did, at least, have an audience to lose.
Thereafter there was just time for Clegg to answer a question about the crisis in Ukraine. "To be honest, I haven't a clue," he didn't say, though probably should have. "I'm completely out of the loop. The prime minister doesn't consult me on anything any more. But my guess is that it's a bad thing and Russia needs to behave."
The only person to talk to Clegg on his way out of the chamber was George Osborne. Only a heart of stone couldn't have felt a moment's pity for him. Almost. Reported by guardian.co.uk 5 hours ago.
There seemed to be no obvious reason for David Cameron's absence on Wednesday. But all prime ministers like to fit in at least one trip to Israel during their time in office and Cameron was running out of time for his chance to claim direct descendancy from Moses.
Which left Ed Miliband at something of a loose end with no prime minister's questions. Hence his speech saying yes, no, well, um, maybe later, to a Europe referendum.
Not that it mattered. Whatever he says these days he only has an audience of six. Or seven, if you include his wife. Which you probably shouldn't as she must have learnt how to tune out by now.
How Nick Clegg must have wished there were so few people listening to him at deputy PMQs. Clegg now prefers to keep humans at the other end of an LBC phone line. Call it damage limitation. In the Commons he has no choice but to take the abuse head on.
With the Lib Dems having recently lost a council election to a bus-pass Elvis impersonator, the Labour backbencher Kevin Brennan feebly punned that Clegg "ain't nothing but a lapdog".
This wasn't particularly funny and missed the point. A lapdog is loved and cherished. Clegg is hated by almost everyone. Labour hate him, the Tories barely bother to conceal their contempt for him, and his own party recognise him as a complete liability, with Danny Alexander now openly mounting a leadership campaign against him.
Though why he should want to when the Lib Dems may barely exist after the next election, is anyone's guess. Will the last person in the bunker please put the cyanide back in the cupboard? Even Clegg's reflection probably hates him; when he looks in the mirror he must see someone pointing back and laughing at him.
The main exchanges were between Clegg and his opposite number, Harriet Harman. The Labour deputy has far more presence than her leader (not difficult) and she briefly threatened to unsettle Clegg by challenging him on the Lib Dems' backing for the government's care bill that his party had initially opposed.
At which point Clegg started to windmill his arms in an effort to appear assertive and manly, while insisting black was white, or if not white then definitely magnolia. Didn't work for me.
Then Harman blew it by trying to tell a gag that must have been written by one of the 12-year-old apparatchiks who now run large parts of the Labour party. "On Sunday the deputy prime minister shared with us everything that he loves about Britain," she said in a strangely flat monotone. "He loves his cup of tea, he loves the shipping forecast and he loves … um … er … er ... um ... flip-flops."
Reading out Christmas cracker jokes must be a highlight of the year chez Harman. It was a crap gag even before she messed up the delivery and her moment was gone. Still, unlike Ed, she did, at least, have an audience to lose.
Thereafter there was just time for Clegg to answer a question about the crisis in Ukraine. "To be honest, I haven't a clue," he didn't say, though probably should have. "I'm completely out of the loop. The prime minister doesn't consult me on anything any more. But my guess is that it's a bad thing and Russia needs to behave."
The only person to talk to Clegg on his way out of the chamber was George Osborne. Only a heart of stone couldn't have felt a moment's pity for him. Almost. Reported by guardian.co.uk 5 hours ago.