Werewolves, frivolous mothers and Peter Andre, the Conservative Party are back in full swing and are as barmy as ever.
After a long and grueling 14-years of Tory governance, that delivered Brexit, the destruction of public services and rampant scandal, the gaffes and the likes of Truss and Johnson who became less and less funny as their policies ruined lives.
However, Rejoice! The Tories are out, the lettuce was victorious and we can once again laugh guilt free at the lunacy of the Conservative Party. So over to Birmingham and the world’s largest collection of pin-stripe suits for the worst, the wildest and downright weirdest moments from this year’s Tory Party Conference.
1) Say "No Way!" to maternity pay
As a starter for 10, to remind us of the sort of policies that The Conservative Party and its esteemed members appear to enjoy, enter stage far-right, Kemi Badenoch.
Badenoch is remarkably popular with Conservative members, who see her as the picture of modernity and rationality to take the party into the next election and into the 2030’s. It was (un)surprising then that such a figure has made quite the habit of this conference of annoying quite as many people as she did, suggesting that 10% of the civil service should be in prison and referring to foreign social care workers as those who “Wipe bottoms for us”.
However, her piece de resistance of performative cruelty was to suggest that the maximum compensation of £183 per week for mothers on maternity leave was “excessive”. I am sure all of those at Conservative Conference were keen to hear about the complex geo-political situations in Eastern Europe & the Middle East, perhaps a commentary on the housing crisis, but all fool them because Kind Kemi has diagnosed Britain's problem that quite literally no-one could have anticipated, it is those pesky mothers and their newborn children!
It is good to see the Conservatives have left behind their Nasty Party image.
2) Mysterious Girl?
Everyone’s favourite one-hit wonder, turned GB News Presenter, Peter Andre performed a scintillating rendition of his song Mysterious Girl, whilst doing some unwarranted hip gyrations. Mr Andre has a particular talent for reinventing himself, a singer, a presenter and now a political metronome in the midst of (it still feels good to say) former ministers.
Apparently the Mysterious Girl in question at the Mooncat Bar was former Health Minister Thérèse Coffey, who knew the Conservatives were such party animals? There isn’t even a lockdown going on.
Mr Andre later confirmed that he is ‘Conservative by name, not by nature’. Whatever that means.
3) The lights are on but no one’s home
Fresh from failing to meet President Trump at the Republican Party Convention and walking out of a talk after someone curtailed her free speech by (checks notes) holding up a banner with a lettuce on, Liz Truss was back amongst her closest friends. Continuing her ‘You can’t get rid of me even if you want to’ tour of political conventions across Europe and North America, she gave the British public a wonderful display of her charisma and famous ability to improvise.
In her attempted evasion of Sky News Reporter Rob Powell, Truss gave a facial expression which some Twitter users were quick to describe as; “The wheel is spinning but the hamster is dead”.
I think PETA may complain this constitutes defamation toward dead hamsters.
4) Rizzible
In a cringe worthy attempt at sounding what the Tory campaign team probably still refers to as ‘hip and with it’, leadership hopeful James Cleverley referred to himself as having ‘rizz’. Now, I am conscious that for those readers not in Generation Z this word may be new to them, the simplest translation is a kind of seductive charm.
It is good to see that the Conservative Party are moving with the times, I look forward to seeing word comes up next on their Gen Z slang Bingo card.
5) “I hope my distinguished chairman is not a chair!”
Have you ever wondered about the etymology of Werewolves, well wonder no longer! A man who is himself somehow more unrealistic than a werewolf, Jacob Rees-Mogg has the answer.
Despite losing his North-East Somerset seat in June, everyone's favourite Dickensian cosplayer was back with a staunch defence of good old fashioned Anglo-Saxon English. In a direct contrast to Cleverley’s hip and trendy use of vocabulary, Victorian puppet turned into real life man Jacob Rees-Mogg broke with the habit of a lifetime and appeared like a man born two centuries too late.
Out of sight of nanny, Mogg delivered the kind of stereotypically lazy and quite dull object-based humour, which is about as funny as a colonoscopy. This new brand of anti-woke warrior, favoured by the likes of Rees-Mogg, Badenoch and Jordan Peterson is particularly bizarre as it often involves getting angry at imaginary people making imaginary arguments.
Although perhaps Scrooge reincarnate has recently been visited by the Ghost of Pronouns Past.