Another Prime Minister bows out.

 Another Prime Minister bows out.

Surely we are now in Guinness Book of Records territory. It's hard to believe that British politics has ever seen a moment in time like this one. You may wish to consult Google or read the excellent book on every Prime Minister since the post became a viable one. But this latest shock horror story almost seems scarcely possible even by the often scandalous standards set by either the Tories or Labour party. It happened today and you must have heard the news. 

Today Liz Truss, who had quite literally been in office as Prime Minister for roughly eight weeks, resigned this morning after quite the most inflammatory, explosive although metaphorical punch up last night in the House of Anarchy. Salty obscenities were turning the air a somehow appropriate blue, swearing on a monumental scale was heard, expletives were lobbed like grenades, four letter words became all the rage and hostility put in quite the ugliest appearance possible. 

For well over the month Liz Truss, now formerly the Prime Minister, had been subjected to a relentless bombardment of poison, vitriol, hatred and the most vicious of insults. You'd have thought she'd robbed several banks, terrorised a neighbourhood with offensive language and then attacked all sensibilities with her overly aggressive behaviour. But the fact remains that Truss will now go down in the history books as the most temporary Prime Minister of all time. In fact if we didn't know any better, we could have sworn that we were just dreaming. Perhaps she was a caretaker and somebody had forgotten to give her a bucket and mop after the children had finished school for the day. 

The truth is that the whole of the Tory party are now in a chronic mess. There is a real sense of well ingrained conflict, an air of division and discord rarely seen in public. What we have here is a political party at war with each other, a party that is at its confrontational worst, internally tearing itself to shreds and then pointing accusing fingers at each other when things get completely out of control. Quite clearly this is a childish game of Musical Chairs or Pass the Parcel. Surely the lowest common denominator has been reached and the country finds itself in complete turmoil. We may think we've seen it all but things have now got to a critical head where something has to give.

The aftermath of this latest political outrage reminds you of the much-loved comedy TV programme Dad's Army which seems to have been repeated at least a million times throughout the years. Sadly though this is no laughing matter although you'd have been forgiven for thinking that it was. A once thriving democracy now finds itself bickering with each other, shouting at each other, passing the buck and then wondering if it'll ever see or hear the Voice of Reason again. 

And this is where we find ourselves going around in ever increasing circles, politicians chasing their tail, hating, haranguing, blaming him or her, reprimanding everybody in sight, yelling obnoxiously at each other, scratching each other's eyes out before then pushing, shoving and bullying each other. It is quite the most unbearable horror show you'll ever see. All commonsense has boarded a plane and flown to some exotic island hundreds and thousands of miles from Britain. You quite genuinely couldn't make this one up. Let the political bawling and brawling stop from here onwards. Or should we allow them to wallow in each other's misfortune.

Now here is the most incredible development in this unfolding Greek tragedy. There are strong rumours that recent history will regurgitate itself like some unsavoury episode of a graphic soap opera. Boris Johnson lurks in the undergrowth like some hungry, vengeful force. Just when you thought it was safe to look at things from a normal perspective then one single moment from history is poised to re-surface. 

At the moment the dust is settling on this quite remarkable day for modern politics. One of Liz Truss's illustrious predecessors once got into the back of her limousine with tears in her eyes and permanent grudges against all those Cabinet colleagues who had once so brutally stabbed her in the back. Margaret Thatcher had, quite possibly, outstayed her welcome at 10 Downing Street but at least she had actually been given carte blanche to carry out all of her policies and promises. 

You find yourself casting your mind back to all those Prime Ministers who came and went, distinguished and not so distinguished. Poor Winston Churchill, although warmly acclaimed as a military Second World War hero and natural leader, found, much to his amazement, that the people had just tired of his cigar smoking, so called pomposity and complete disregard of those who were still struggling to make ends meet. He was a Prime Minister for a while but the image was now a distorted one and nobody could forgive the snobbery, the growling disdain for the working class and the celebration of the wealthy and privileged.

Of course there was Disraeli and Gladstone, Stanley Baldwin, Clement Atlee, Harold Wilson and Edward Heath, Jim Callaghan, John Major and perhaps the most influential of them all, Tony Blair. Blair was smooth, charismatic, proactive, fiercely supportive of the young and the modern generation. But Blair was dragged unwillingly into a war with Iraq that he may have felt had nothing to do with him personally. Blair was vocal when he needed to be, both constructive and decisive. There was always something homely and reassuring about Blair that may have worked against him at times. 

So to the present day. Tonight there will be an air of fractured fractiousness in 10 Downing Street. The curtains will be drawn sombrely and not for the first time. Larry the Cat may decide to hide under a nearby bush nervously awaiting the next lurid tale. The autumnal leaves are now eddying and swirling around quite significantly as if acutely aware at the sheer magnitude of this ongoing story. The nation will go to their bed stunned and dumbfounded. Even French president Emmanuel Macron has sent the most heartfelt of wishes. Macron sincerely hoped his cross-Channel ally would find some semblance of stability. Britain will now attempt both damage limitation and hope that something does turn up eventually.