MPs chilled by Deputy Speaker Lindsay Hoyle's Northern exposure

Tales from the water cooler

For all of their fork-tongued, cravenly-ambitious, hateful obsequiousness, what irritates me most about politicians of every badge is the din they make when they congregate in that preposterously gothic palace down by the river.

If you thought they sounded like a cavalry charge of hee-hawing donkeys at the best of times, they were never more annoying than during this week's Budget speech by the Chancellor. You see, the weak-chinned social ineptitude that made them want to be politicians in the first place is nullified as soon as they can snuggle into the bosom of their gang – hiding within the collective so they may quack disdain at each other with impunity, until it's time to go back to their third home and bang the help. Long have I wished I could stride into the chamber (preceded perhaps by a fanfare from one of those geezers with the long trumpet the Queen uses), before walking to the centre of the hall and bellowing: "Shut up! Shut up! Be QUIET!!!"

But democracy sadly doesn't extend to that sort of access, so thank goodness there was someone on hand to shut them up when the whinnying became too much.

Deputy Speaker Lindsay Hoyle (who, despite his girl's name, is all man) earned the country's love by using authentic, Chorley-born, black pudding-scented common-bloody-sense to quieten the honking geese. Ed Balls can rarely have been so roundly chastised as he was on Wednesday, but in truth neither faction escaped a proper telling off from a man who should remain in the shadows no longer.

Deputy? It's time there was a new sheriff in town.

Twitter: @DonaldAMacInnes