Now, the moral of this story, the moral of this song, is simply that one should never be where one does not belong.......
Not for nothing are journalists rightly despised, scribbling rubbish in the London papers and spouting drivel on telly, Diane Lard has made a comfortable, private school living pretending to be one of them; in addition to her handsomely-paid public servant role Abbott has boosted her income, not due to her talent or merit - there is much better commentary in these cyber-pages than would ever spring from her leaden opinionising - but due to her position; last night, she found that journalism is a little more brutal than she had imagined.
Bumptious, hypocritical gabshite beasted on mainstream Tee-Vee
If you missed this week's This Week, among the usual frothy rubbish, pantomime journalists in boats and numbskull, nobody celebrities, there was a dark moment or two of political reality as Andrew Neil effortlessly exposed the hypocrisy and self-interest, the utter poverty of intellect or principle at the heart of Ms Abbott, she really is as stupid as she sounds, as venal, as precious, as astonishingly maladroit and incompetent as one has always suspected, unable to explain, refute or even divert Neil's questions about her expenses, her own, stagey racism, her contradictory, greedy, self-centred parental decisions, she floundered, Oh-Andrewing, as though these straightforward - and long, long overdue - questions were beneath her. So utterly banal and worthless was her performance, so embarrassing, that one wondered, not for the first time, why it was that Neil has for so long pretended to value her opinion.
Had Abbott fanned a few flames of hope, that she might wrest a shadow front bench role from this pretend leadership bid, she will today be staring into their embers.