Yes, folks, the son of the manse, the child of the minister, the man with the rectally-fitted moral compass has been found wanting.
Not just found wanting, but found wanting by the thieves, rogues, knaves, varlets and troughers of Parliament, a scurvy bunch if ever there was one.
And still, there are no pitchforks, no raging mobs, no complaints, even. Just a mute acceptance of our impotence as a nation.
It is shameful. Shame on them, yes, but look at what we're doing about it.
Shame on us, too.