Oh . . . the irony.

So off toddles Dave to Egypt, the Great White Father from the crumbled, stagnant, lost empire to ponce around a country in the throes of revolution and change to try to shift weapons to people whose intentions remain unclear to say the least. He's living out the Tory dream of reliving the days of Empire by leading his ragged band of vultures to peck at the carcass of a state under the guise of 'help' and 'support'. No wonder they hate us so much in the Middle East. All this and our senior statesman is reduced to hustling guns in troublespots like some sordid little seller of hooky watches, a low-life scrabbling for the scraps.

Meanwhile, the UK's newest ex-bestest buddy the brutal drooling nutter Gaddaffi has played our elected representatives for a load of right tits and is now in the process of slaughtering his own people. The UN comes up with sanctions (yawn), that well-worn method of actually doing sod all and waiting to see what happens, and Dave, replete in his impotence can't suggest enforcing a no fly zone to protect the Libyan people from the jet fighters and Apache helicopters indiscriminately raining death on them because . . . we've got no strategic air capability since he decommissioned our last aircraft carrier and all the planes on it. You can't run an empire by selling guns Dave! You need people to fire them too - and that means from planes as well.

Oh, and they've fucked the economy too. Viva George the Onanist!

You couldn't make it up.