Sooner or later, someone is going to have to call a halt to Liz Truss’s public appearances. Not for our benefit, but for hers. We’ve nearly reached the point where we’ve tipped over into the Theatre of Cruelty. A freak show where audiences turn up just to see what mad thing she says next. Where she is egged on to make herself look ever more ridiculous. Hard to believe, I know. But every time you think you have reached Peak Trusster, Liz is there to say “hold my beer”.
It would somehow feel less grubby if Liz was in on the joke. If she was aware that her residual value is as a washed-up end-of-the-pier entertainer. Someone long past her best, churning out her greatest hit. A song that once reached Number 73 in the charts several decades ago.
