FOR a while there, I was feeling sorry for the lieges of London.

Just when they were about to divest themselves of Boris Johnson as Mayor - he's been selected by the Conservatives to contest the Uxbridge and South Ruislip seat at next year's General Election - they were trying to come to terms with news that they were in danger of being landed with Russell Brand instead.

The "comedian" was muttering about running for London Mayor, standing on an "anti-politics" ticket. Londoners were desperately casting around for someone to stand on an anti-Russell Brand ticket, but yesterday he admitted that the incumbent was enough of a funnyman for any major metropolis, and withdrew his threat.

As regular readers will quickly attest, I'm no comedian, but I almost had a brush with politics once. I was going to stand for the Apathy Party, but I didn't fill out the nomination forms in time. Of course they never got round to sending me any (largely because I couldn't be bothered to send off for them), but still. Maybe next time.

Perhaps, though, the world would be a happier place if more bona fide comedians entered politics. There are some in the world of entertainment who would seem to be tailor-made for this particular circus. Billy Connolly, for example, could be a Prime Minister, or a pretendy First Minister, if he'd prefer. Is there any subject under the sun on which he hasn't previously held court over his long career? I'd pay good money to watch Angela Merkel try to give him a handbagging.

Ronnie Corbett would fit just fine in the Speaker's Chair, even if he might have to stand up on it. Never held John Bercow back, after all.

Jimmy Carr, with his proven financial acumen, would make a fine Chancellor, in the best tradition of poacher turned gamekeeper.

Richard Wilson can be my leader of the Opposition. Prime Minister's Questions would be a constant barrage of "I don't belieeeeve it". Just like it is just now, but with a more pleasing accent.

Chief Whip has to be Victoria Wood, with exhortations along the lines of Let's do it, let's do it, have a night of old romance/ Poetic, frenetic, this could be your last big chance/ Read Milton, eat Stilton/ Vote with gay abandon on a tufted Wilton ...

Sadly, we have missed out on one of the greats. I wanted the marvellous French mime Marcel Marceau in the Government, but I've just found out he died in 2007. Pity. I would have loved to have seen him explain the bedroom tax.