14 Pratty Truths From Westminster Unmasking The Laughable Logic Of Commons Debates
House of Commons Chaos
- The House of Commons frequently feels like a London cab rank at rush hour with less direction and more shouting pratface than actual policy debates.
- Every time an MP says “With respect” you can safely assume 14 prats are about to be disrespected in exactly the wrong way.
- Prime Ministers strut into the chamber like they are auditioning for a London stage show titled The Art Of Evading Specific Answers.
- The Speaker’s job is half referee, half nanny, and half magician trying to make sense of the latest prat-induced cacophony.
- Hansard transcripts read like a surrealist play where everyone speaks, nobody listens, and the audience probably deserves better lighting.
- “Points of Order” have become the parliamentary equivalent of someone shouting “you’re wrong” at the bar before discussion even begins.
- Every Brexit sequel reference in the Commons is like asking a room of bored tourists if they’ve tried fish and chips — we’ve all had enough, cheers.
- When the Chancellor stands up to deliver the Budget, half the chamber tunes in like it’s the London Fireworks, hoping for sparks and colourful chaos.
- The opposition’s applause meter is more consistent than forecasts of economic growth, and arguably more believable too.
- MPs quoting statistics often feel like magicians referencing ancient scrolls — impressive numbers that vanish upon closer inspection.
- Commons debates often resemble London traffic at 5pm: lots of noise, minimal forward movement, and unexplainable honking.
- Every select committee feels like a school play where the script was lost and everyone agreed to improvise their prat roles.
- The question time ritual is essentially public performance art where seasoned MPs demonstrate Olympic-level dodging techniques.
- Watching the House of Commons on TV is like subscribing to a London tube map of confusion, with unexpected closures and prat diversions aplenty.
SOURCE: House Of Commons Humour And Prat Observations
Five Things Observed Before The Speaker Blew The Whistle
• Question Time now requires a pre-match stretch and possibly a tetanus shot.
• “Order!” has replaced “Goal!” as the loudest word in British public life.
• MPs warm up their vocal cords like West End performers, except the script is optional.
• The front bench maintains eye contact the way boxers do before a polite brawl.
• Nobody has technically answered a question since the coalition government.
Commons Question Time Now Classified As Contact Sport
LONDON — In a reform welcomed by physiotherapists and bookmaker alike, Commons Question Time has officially been reclassified as a contact sport. Helmets and shin pads are under review.
The move follows an especially spirited exchange in which three MPs attempted to occupy the same moral high ground simultaneously and collided at rhetorical speed. Parliamentary authorities insist there was “no physical contact,” though one backbencher was seen clutching his dignity.
An internal Health and Safety assessment, leaked via the tea urn, recommends mouthguards for frontbenchers and reflective vests for new MPs who may wander into crossfire.
Dr. Malcolm Reddick of the Institute for Democratic Resilience confirmed the danger. “The velocity of interruption has increased 27 percent since last autumn,” he said, citing charts nobody checked. “At peak decibel, you could exfoliate wallpaper.”
Archival footage reveals MPs pivoting mid-sentence with the grace of Olympic skaters. One particularly dazzling performance involved a minister rotating through transport, immigration and weather patterns before landing nowhere near the original question. Analysts described it as an “impressive verbal pirouette.”
MP Claims He Answered The Question; Nation Still Searching
In the aftermath, one MP insisted he had indeed answered the question posed to him.
“I was crystal clear,” he declared, gesturing at a stack of notes that appeared to contain the word “confidence” in increasingly bold handwriting.
The nation remains unconvinced.
A poll conducted by North Circular Analytics surveyed 1,903 viewers and one Labrador. 71.8 percent responded, “What was the question again?” Another 14 percent admitted they were distracted by the synchronised groaning from the opposition benches.
A civil servant, speaking anonymously from behind a large ficus plant, confessed, “We are still reviewing the tape to determine if an answer occurred. There was definitely noise.”
Economists argue that answers have become theoretical constructs. “The modern parliamentary reply is quantum,” explained Professor Delilah Firth. “It both answers and avoids until observed closely, at which point it disappears.”
Parliament Considers Installing Roundabout In Chamber To Improve Flow
In a bold infrastructure proposal, Parliament is considering installing a functioning roundabout in the centre of the chamber to improve conversational flow.
London traffic experts were consulted. Their verdict was bleak.
“It would still move faster,” said Gary Pritchard, who has spent 14 years studying congestion near Hammersmith. “At least cars eventually exit.”
Under the proposal, MPs would be required to circle the roundabout before speaking, indicating intent with a raised briefing paper. Failure to signal would result in immediate sarcasm from the Speaker.
Transport engineers predict a reduction in rhetorical pile-ups but warn of increased honking. A backbencher from Surrey objected on aesthetic grounds, claiming it would “undermine the dignity of the shouting.”
Historic Reform: House of Commons Rebrands As “The Loud Room”
In what focus groups have described as “refreshingly honest,” the House of Commons is considering rebranding itself as The Loud Room.
Brand consultants argue the name reflects core competencies. “Transparency builds trust,” one advisor explained. “And frankly, it is loud.”
Tour operators have already updated brochures. “Visit The Loud Room,” they read. “Witness democracy in its natural habitat.”
A recent YouGov-style survey of 2,221 Londoners found 64 percent preferred the new title, 22 percent suggested “The Echo Chamber,” and 8 percent recommended “Indoor Weather System.”
The Speaker has expressed cautious optimism. “If we are to be loud,” he reportedly said, “let us at least be accurately loud.”
Meanwhile, helmet manufacturers have submitted bids. Shin pad suppliers sense opportunity. The labrador named Order remains on standby.
Democracy, as ever, continues at full volume.
Disclaimer: This article is a satirical account and represents an entirely human collaboration between the world’s oldest tenured professor and a philosophy major turned dairy farmer. Any resemblance to actual parliamentary velocity is coincidental. Auf Wiedersehen.
Alan Nafzger was born in Lubbock, Texas, the son Swiss immigrants. He grew up on a dairy in Windthorst, north central Texas. He earned degrees from Midwestern State University (B.A. 1985) and Texas State University (M.A. 1987). University College Dublin (Ph.D. 1991). Dr. Nafzger has entertained and educated young people in Texas colleges for 37 years. Nafzger is best known for his dark novels and experimental screenwriting. His best know scripts to date are Lenin’s Body, produced in Russia by A-Media and Sea and Sky produced in The Philippines in the Tagalog language. In 1986, Nafzger wrote the iconic feminist western novel, Gina of Quitaque. He currently lives in Holloway, North London. Contact: editor@prat.uk
