24th March 2026
There was lively debate this week in the ever-eccentric world of Lord Bonkers, as the veteran peer’s latest diary entry captured murmurs of discontent echoing through the corners, nooks and crannies of Bonkers Hall.
The Hall—long known for its labyrinthine passages and equally labyrinthine politics—was said to be abuzz with quiet grumbling about the current direction of the Liberal Democrats. The concerns, while expressed sotto voce, were anything but modest.
“We won 72 seats at the last election, but we seem to have stalled since,” was one such observation, reported from an unnamed alcove. Others were more forthright in their anxieties, warning that unless the party’s leadership redoubles its efforts, it risks slipping from prominence altogether.
Particular attention fell on party leader Sir Ed Davey, with one colourful commentator suggesting that unless he “pulls his finger out,” the party could “disappear altogether.” Such blunt assessments are, of course, entirely in keeping with the Bonkers tradition of mixing political commentary with a healthy dose of theatrical exaggeration.
Sir Ed’s fondness for publicity stunts also drew a knowing eye. In one particularly imaginative remark, a critic quipped that should the leader bring his well-known water-based antics to their constituency, they might be tempted to explore the logistics of hiring a killer whale by the hour. Whether this reflects policy concerns or simply a local sense of humour remains, as ever, open to interpretation.
The Bonkers Diary—long a fixture of liberal commentary and satire—has been offering its unique perspective on politics for decades, blending whimsical storytelling with pointed political observation. Liberator magazine has featured the character since 1990, cementing Lord Bonkers as one of the more distinctive voices in liberal circles.
Back in Romiley, residents may be forgiven for wondering whether similar debates are taking place in quieter corners of their own political landscape. But if Bonkers Hall is anything to go by, even the most aristocratic of settings is not immune to a bit of good-natured grumbling—and the occasional killer whale.
