Politics is a sick joke and we’re the punchline

Politics reached its comedy zenith with Ash Regan – who wants to lead Scotland – and her plan to erect a “readiness thermometer” in Glasgow or Edinburgh. It would have a “dial on it that moves”, she said, to reflect how prepared Scotland was for independence on issues like currency and defence.

This stuff is better than anything Armando Iannucci or Chris Morris could write. It makes Brass Eye and The Thick of It seem weak. Lots of members of the SNP got in on the gag saying they thought Regan’s idea was pure, dead brilliant.

Some days before, Regan told us about plans to achieve independence through her “voter empowerment mechanism”, or as you and I might call it: an election. She was clearly inspired by Tony Hancock, who single-handedly invented "cringe comedy". Hancock’s routines regularly saw him pompously regurgitate half the Oxford English Dictionary in the hope of impressing those around him, but with the result of looking merely like a berk.

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Regan has a great routine on finances. Her gag writers scripted excellent lines about Scotland having its own currency “a couple of months” after independence, in a nod to Kevin Bridges’ spondoolies joke.

However, it’s entirely wrong to imagine that Regan is the only political stand-up rocking Scotland. Heavens to Betsy, no – the country is positively hoaching with elected comedians. Kate Forbes struck a hilarious note at the weekend with a routine in which she blamed the media for all the attention on her biblical values.

I must have missed that episode: "The one where the Scottish press pack brainwash Forbes into opposing gay marriage and babies out of wedlock’. Hilarious stuff, Kate. Keep it up. You’re a one-woman laughathon. A latter-day Reverend IM Jolly.

Forbes had another cracker up her sleeve when she said she’d be a new First Minister “for a new decade”. Most folk don’t wonder which decade Forbes will represent, but which century. Forbes was maybe riffing off reports regarding LGBT folk in the SNP planning to leave the party. Looks like the joke may well be on the SNP. But hey, that’s irony for you.

Humza Yousaf plays the straight man to all this, of course. Only the thing is, his record in government is hilarious when it comes to the NHS and law and order.

Now clearly, the SNP is really just the warm-up act for the Tories down in London. That’s where the top acts are found. Ain’t it always the case in showbiz? If you want real stardom head to the Big Smoke. Boris Johnson continues his routine as the funniest sociopath in British politics. How about this for a piece of performance art: he’s only gone and nominated his dad for a knighthood. It’s the reverse of the nepo baby trend. Stanley Johnson is now a nepo daddy.

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Jacob Rees-Mogg and Nadine Dorries, the Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz de nos jour, have developed a new stand-up set around the recent publication of the interim Partygate findings by the House of Commons' privileges committee. The committee, which has a Conservative majority, concluded there were compelling grounds for charging Johnson with misleading parliament on multiple occasions. Charges could result in his ejection from the Commons.

Rees-Mogg had great gags for the occasion. Partygate, said Rees-Mogg – who adopts the sinister persona of a Victorian mill owner for his routines – was down to a “socialist cabal” plotting against Johnson. Dorries, the latest in a long line of Liverpool comics, calls Partygate a “stitch-up” in her sets.

The Tories have really been developing a new immersive approach to comedy of late. Take Thérèse Coffey. The Environment Secretary says we should all eat turnips now there’s a shortage of food like tomatoes in supermarkets. It was a great riff on the classic Baldrick routines from Blackadder. Plus, with her penchant for expensive cigars she’s clearly channelling the ghost of Groucho Marx. This is cutting edge comedy.

Lee Anderson has rebooted a 21st century homage to Alf Garnett. The deputy chairman of the Tory Party does this great impersonation of a loathsome idiot who rails against the poor while pocketing a whooping great salary paid for by taxpayers. Comedy genius.

Deputy Chairman of the Conservative Party Lee Anderson 'does this great impersonation of a loathsome idiot who rails against the poor while pocketing a whooping great salary paid for by taxpayers' (Image: Newsquest)

And there’s still old stalwarts out there, gigging away in tough spit and sawdust venues. Alex Salmond put on a helluva gig the other day with a routine about the Stone of Destiny and the upcoming Coronation of Charles. Salmond – whose Alba Party is comedy itself – says the Scottish Government should refuse to allow this blessed relic to be used in the ceremony.

It was obviously a cunning piece of satire, mocking how politicians only care about pointless culture war guff rather than concentrating on whether people can eat, see the doctor or walk the streets safely. Ash Regan played support act to this routine too, saying she’d block the return of the stone for the Coronation.

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Of course, the best comedy act in Britain is in Northern Ireland where an entire assembly of politicians is engaged in an extended skit which sees them never going to work. A masterclass.

It’s really kind of our politicians to give us these laughs. Just look at the state of Britain: food banks, a collapsing health service, ruined schools, homelessness. It’s not like the myriad catastrophes facing ordinary citizens are the result of delinquent political idiocy.

It’s not as if politicians lecture us about thrift while growing rich off our backs, or denounce British workers as lazy while sleeping in parliament … or ban drugs while taking them.

And do you know who we’ve got to thank for this brilliant renaissance in modern political comedy? Why us, of course. We elected them. And the media too. Here’s the biggest gag in town: politics is a sick joke, and we’re the punchline.