Certifiable

This has been the week of Gordon! Sing his name out loud!

Here he was, a man rejunvenated, a man reborn, a man whose crazed smiles and loopy facial tics had now, at last, begun to be appreciated by the wider world. Thus stern promises were issued to spend sums of incomprehensible magnitude - none of which he had, of course – not merely to rescue the world's crumbling financial systems but single-handedly to bestow his limitless wisdom to countries great and small (except Iceland, of course) to make clear to them what has always been abundantly obvious to him: THAT ONLY GORDON KNOWS!

ONLY GORDON UNDERSTANDS! ONLY GORDON CAN SAVE US!

Oh! Undeserving world! See who has come among us! See who strides benignly among us feeble pygmies!

Were the veritable agent of death himself to reveal himself to us, it would be as nothing to the Great Gord.

Begone dwarf Cameron and your pointless toff crew!

Britain's greatest-ever chancellor, the man who BANISHED! boom and bust, has been let loose again!

In as much as ... ooh! ... a week? Gordo himself will PERSONALLY DEMAND! that we will all be allowed to eat AT LEAST! half a rat PER FAMILY! PER WEEK!

In the meantime, after personally restoring democracy to Burma, ending global warming, slashing the price of oil and giving serious thought of the VAST kind only he understands about how to change the movements of the planets, his head, currently only marginally smaller than the universe itself, will, I earnestly trust, explode with a tiny phutt and this properly vile, lying and deeply dishonest lunatic will cease to be for ever.

Oh, if only. If only. What have we done to deserve this endless punishment? Who will rid us of this crazed imbecile? That Britain – Great Britain, ha! – should be led by this bloated buffoon.

It is just too painful.