With the political carnage in Parliament yesterday, I wonder if Bunter Johnson will fly government flags at half mast today. I am not going to say much about it at this stage because there is still a long way to go, but I fear that democracy in this country is well and truly dead and I am horribly afraid that Brexit probably is as well.

Elsewhere, the outgoing UN Resident Coordinator Ambassador for Zimbabwe (Now there is a grand title!) Bishow Parajuli has said the secret to economic revival for the country is Agriculture. Jeepers, the man must be psychic! Zim has relied on agriculture for well over a century! Parajuli was speaking at a workshop in Harare when he said Zimbabwe has a great future ahead (WHAT!!) and all its citizens must work together in the transformation process being spearheaded by Emmerson Mnangagwa. To my slightly cynical mind, the man must have been smoking ‘wacky baccy’ damnit! Or does he live in a world of his own dreaming?

“Zimbabwe can produce not only to feed itself but Africa and beyond.” He pontificated and obliquely he was right. We certainly used to do that. “The country has so much land, the right weather and water. With the right policies the country can overcome all these challenges.

‘I hope economic challenges will be a thing of the past, with efforts by Government to transform the country and bringing long term sustainable solutions. International engagement, opening the country for business and concrete development plans are excellent visions from his Excellency President Mnangagwa.

‘Efforts of Central Government and leadership of President Mnangagwa has been excellent as shown by the appeal document we launched on 6 August.”

That sort of verbosity is difficult to follow but it is typical of United Nations speak. Having witnessed their representatives in action on many occasions, I have never had much time for the organisation but this fawning hypocrisy and rambling piffle is difficult to take, particularly when it deals with my own ravaged country.

Parajuli who has completed his term of duty in Zimbabwe is now going to India. All I can say is ‘God help the Indians.’

I have always felt most comfortable in woollen clothing but now that bunch of collective nutcases, PETA (something about the ethical treatment of animals) have decreed in large advertisements all over the country that I am cruel.

‘Don’t let them pull the wool over your eyes. Wool is as cruel as fur. Go wool free this winter,’ proclaim the banners on buses everywhere. What utter codswallop! Sheep need regular shearing for their own health so what do these fanatically idiotic nincompoops suggest should happen to the resulting fleeces? Should we throw them away and add to the pollution already choking the planet? Must we all wear synthetic fibre and what happens to thousands of people whose living depends on the wool industry?

The PETA campaign even included the bizarre demand that the Dorset village of Wool should change its name. I would have thought sheep in the area would have been pleased rather than offended to have a whole village named after them!

Thankfully and as if to prove that there is still a modicum of common sense being used in this mixed up country,  the Advertising Standards Authority has ruled the claim that ‘wool is as cruel as fur’ is simply false and misleading and it has banned PETA from running ads making the claim in future.

We have more than enough in the way of benighted buffoons spouting misguided nonsense on both sides of Parliament at the moment. Won’t someone protect us from the vegan fanatics of PETA?

Somehow, I don’t think so. Militant zealots like members of most animal rights organisations are always quick to take offence and nobody wants to risk that.

The Royal Biscuit (do they still make gingernuts I wonder or do they call them something else to be politically correct?) was in trouble again yesterday. He was attending a conference on something or the other in Amsterdam when he was asked by a member of the audience how he had travelled there and if he was changing his travel behaviour.

The Biscuit replied airily, ‘I came here by commercial, I spend 99% of my life travelling the world by commercial, but occasionally there needs to be an opportunity based on a unique circumstance to ensure that my family are safe – it’s generally as simple as that.’

He went on to say that he balances out the impact he has on the environment and will continue to do so.

‘Oh Harry, Harry why are you such a pratwinkle? From being the darling of little old ladies in this country you are making yourself into a complete laughing stock.’

After his comment about the ninety-nine percent, tabloid media hacks gleefully dug into their research files to discover that since getting together with his Yank, six out of every ten flights made by the Biscuit have been on private jets.

There are also ten trains to Amsterdam every day. What else can I say?