Isn't this time of year the worst? The festive cheer of Christmas gives way to the dreary reality of January. Mornings are cold, afternoons fade into a dull gray, and the only thing on the horizon is the dreaded tax return. All we can do is hunker down and hope to wake up in April.

Then come the resolutions—those hollow, obligatory promises. Honestly, no one cares if you give up alcohol or chocolate for a while. It’s no big deal. Do whatever you want, just don’t burden the rest of us with it. The season of giving has passed. We might have cared around Christmas, but by January, it’s every person for themselves.

No one loves to trumpet their resolutions more than politicians. While most people only irritate their friends and family, politicians seem determined to exasperate the entire country. They endlessly tout their plans, forgetting that they made similar promises last year, with little to show for it since.

A politician who vows to stay quiet for a few months and focus on their work would be a refreshing change—a sure way to win votes. But no, they can’t resist the allure of TV cameras and the need to fill news slots. They believe that people are disappointed because they haven’t adequately conveyed how great they are. Their ultimate goal? Crafting the perfect soundbite.

New year, new Keir. So it was no surprise to find that the prime minister was out and about in Surrey at Epsom hospital on the first day of the new parliamentary session to let the country know of his new plans for the NHS. Though by the time he had finished speaking almost no one was any the wiser. That’s Keir Starmer’s cross to bear. He’s such a dull public speaker that his words curl up and die on his lips. Even when he’s the bearer of good news, your first instinct is to kill yourself.

We have to assume that what Starmer had to say was important because Wes Streeting stood behind him nodding furiously. Much like one of those toy dogs that used to sit on the top of a Ford Granada parcel shelf. The health secretary was flanked by more than 20 doctors and nurses, who began to look twitchy when they heard part of the plan was to reduce waiting times. They had better things to do than be a backdrop for Keir. They had patients who were waiting.

Kemi Badenoch refrained from giving a new year speech. Instead she chose social media for hew new year messages. This is very on brand for KemiKaze. She actually believes that what happens on X is real life. She exists in a world in which the UK is reimagined as Great Twittain. Where people live in a state of suspended animation waiting for the next deranged nutjob to say something toxic.

And in this new Great Twittain, we have a new leader – Elon Musk. The richest man in the world, who apparently has nothing better to do with his time than to take ketamine – billionaires can get anything on prescription these days – while sounding off about people and places of which he knows nothing whatsoever. Just to provoke a reaction. To prove that his life has meaning. What’s the point of owning X if not to turn it into a toxic hellhole?

To KemiKaze’s great excitement, Musk has turned his attention to the UK. In particular the child grooming gangs that operated out of many towns and cities. For the Muskster, no real evidence is required for a few barely intelligible tweets.

But weirdly, Badenoch reacts as if she had been handed the Ten Commandments. Rather than just ignoring him, she regards Elon as the Second Coming. So she doubles down on everything Musk has said. All British Pakistani men should be treated as potential paedophiles. Keir Starmer and Jess Phillips are paedophile enablers. It’s time for the US to invade to get rid of a tyrannical government.

All normal discourse is dead. As is rational thought. She has forgotten that just a few months ago the Conservatives themselves were in power and had 14 years in which they could have held any number of public inquiries. Or even gone to the trouble of implementing the findings of the Alexis Jay inquiry. But this is Twittain, folks. The idiots are in charge of the Tory party.

Even stranger, KemiKaze – aided and abetted by the likes of Chris Philp and Robert Jenrick – has managed to position the Tories to the right of Reform. Nigel Farage has made it clear Tommy Robinson is not welcome in his party. To Kemi and the Muskster, he is a much-misunderstood freedom fighter. Not someone banged up for contempt of court. Elon is even thinking of naming a new Tesla in his honour. The Tesla TR. Elegantly detailed with a white hood.

All of which suited Starmer just fine. Far better to be dealing with this white noise than being questioned about his own new year resolution that everyone had already forgotten. So once he had finished speaking in Epsom, nearly all the questions were on the space cadet’s bizarre rants. Was he worried about the impending invasion? Did he think he ought to be in prison?

No and no. He wasn’t going to grace the Muskster’s fantasies with any credibility. Nor was he going to get personal. Other than to call out Kemi for following Elon. Britain expected more of its party leaders than this. This was a rage entirely confected on X. No one other than a few cranks believed Starmer and Phillips protected the abusers. It was time for the Tories to grow up a bit. Take time out from their own echo chamber. He was going to concentrate on the serious business of politics.