WE live in times that are topsy and, in some respects, turvy. Thus, right-wing persons in droves are calling for the abolition of the House of Lords, which is now such a bastion of left-wing privilege that my sources say it is shortly to be renamed the House of Labour.

A petition to replace the “crony-filled” institution with an elected body has attracted, like, thousands of signatures, while in a poll of, like, 20,000 readers of a middle English madsheet, 96 per cent called for the controversial bastion of Westminster democracy to be scrapped.

Much of this revolutionary outrage has been fuelled by threats made by some peers to Brexit, which, other than where it is disputed, is the undisputed will of the once despised “people”. However, when the Lords spent 20 hours scrutinising the Brexit bill in between meals earlier this week, nothing obstructive was forthcoming beyond a fish bone stuck in one old boy’s throat.

Baroness Featherstone, a Communist-style Liberal Democrat, criticised those frightened of the people by saying “their cojones had gone missing”. I can reveal that cojones are a kind of testicle eaten in parts of Latin America.

Also on the ball was Lord Newby, another LibDem well versed in Marxism-Leninism, who criticised Brexit for portraying Britland as “a national equivalent of Clark Kent”, ready to change into Superman.

Faster than a speeding ballot, Baron Harrison, of the aristocratic Labour Party, flew into a flap about the “small corner shop” of the Commonwealth, which he compared to “the vibrant shopping mall of the EU single market”.

And that was about it, though there’s more in store next week when they’ll be waddling into their golden, Trump-style chamber for another long sleep interrupted by periodic slavering. Also next week, the avowedly Maoist BBC begins a documentary series called Meet The Lords. Its programme notes boast that “a Conservative government is for the first time having to tackle a Lords chamber where the opposition outnumber them”.

This was caused by fiery radical Tony Blair abolishing 600 hereditary peers and paving the way for the Gothic mausoleum to become more or less a commune and bastion of hierarchical egalitarianism.

Thus, the House of Lords is regarded as occupying the space vacated by the Socialist Workers Party. Where, in Scotland, you see protest placards with the words “Socialist Worker”, in England these say “House of Lords”, perhaps over a message supporting a strike.

Oddly enough, even when the SWP had dwindled to a few enthusiasts, their placards were still ubiquitous at protests. If they’d had any sense, they could have set up a business franchise and made a fortune, perhaps eventually floating on the Stock Exchange.

Speaking of fortunes, crossbencher Baroness D’Souza sparked irritated wakefulness when she revealed that one peer had kept a taxi running outside while he nipped in to claim his £300-a-day attendance money.

Lord Tyler (Lib Dem) described the joint as “the best day care centre for the elderly in London”, noting that the library was regarded by experienced activists as a good place for a nap. Baron Dobbs (Con) described the Lords as “a composting machine”, explaining: “Whatever comes out the other end is more fragrant and more fertile than what went in.” Certainly, it has put the country in a ferment, with weeds sprouting up everywhere, seeking radical rays of sunshine to penetrate the Gothic gloom.

It is a truth universally acknowledged by some that, presented with a plughole, Britain makes a beeline for it. The House of Lords is proving to be the last bastion against, like, literally Nazism and I trust all readers will contribute to a crowdfunding appeal I understand is being organised in its support.