Given what an attention-addict she is, it’s tempting to ignore Sally Bercow’s latest publicity stunt.
The silly woman clearly revels in the limelight, no matter how wretched she makes herself look in the process.
Her latest wheeze - posing in just a bedsheet against a backdrop of the House of Commons and giving an interview in which she shares excruciating details about her sex life - has merely confirmed that she is the Christine Hamilton of our times.
But there’s one key difference: Mrs Hamilton waited until her husband had been booted out of Westminster before indulging her addiction to cheap celebrity.
Mrs Bercow, on the other hand, is doing it while her husband holds one of the most important offices of State.
Which is why (alas) we can’t just look the other way while she dresses up in bedsheets, or shares her inane ‘me! me! me!’ musings on Twitter.
As the Speaker of the House of Commons, John Bercow’s position is key to our democratic process. It is not, as some think, a purely ceremonial role involving a daft pair of tights and a few handshakes with foreign dignitaries.
The Speaker is one of the great symbols of freedom and democracy - establishing Parliament’s supremacy over the crown.
To fulfil that mighty duty, the incumbent needs to be respected by all sides of the House.
Alas, thanks to a toxic mixture of egotism, stupidity and incompetence, the Bercows have turned the role into an end-of-pier pantomime (all be it an X-rated one, in which the leading lady has already revealed that she is a recovering alcoholic who’s lost count of the number of strangers she’s bedded).
It’s not good enough for Mr Bercow to claim, as he does, that his wife is ‘independent and entitled to her views’. I’m all for equality, but not at the cost of undermining the democratic process.
As Speaker, Bercow’s impartiality, probity and good judgment are key to his role - qualities that have all been called into question by his absurd, seedy wife.
She humiliates him and degrades Parliament itself.
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