Looking at the free school meals row, you might feel that this is a classic confrontation between a government and an opposition with diametrically opposed positions on social welfare.

It isn’t. It’s actually an artificial squabble for political ground that distracts from a much more damaging affliction: local government incompetence.

If local government agencies had a half-decent handle on the needs of those on their manors, there would be no controversy at all. They would at worst need to lobby for more cash for their neediest clients, underpinned by a fact-based plan.

Regrettably, as we know, these muppets cannot even regularly empty dogshit bins, let alone exercise social and fiscal responsibility.

They are the unfunniest clowns in the administrative circus.

In truth, neither side in Parliament gives a toss about eradicating poverty. Without the poor, the Tories would not be rich, and Labour would have little reason to exist. The bust-up is a great opportunity for both parties to have a gratuitous bash at each other. But back to the here and now and some pragmatic politics.

In the current climate – with gazillions fizzing about – coughing up a few million to put the matter of hunger beyond doubt, while triggering an urgent investigation into the extent of social need, seemed sensible.

But these days, common sense rarely prevails in Westminster, and even when one party drops the ball, the others rarely capitalise.

How else can we explain Labour’s abject failure to chalk up any runs against the most appallingly incompetent Government in living memory?

For their innings on the school grub gambol, Labour sent Angela Rayner out to bat, which is akin to sending a quadriplegic to a gunfight, armed with a dildo.

Flangela promptly forgot that she was centre stage in the cradle of democracy and not on the piss-stained concrete stairwell of a high-rise, going at it hammer and tongs with a tattooed, coked-up, trick-turning slapper. Accordingly, after a brief spittle-punctuated rant, the most erudite riposte that she could muster to her Tory opponent was a shout of ‘scum’ across the floor of the House.

Cue outrage, not to mention immeasurable irony. Flange is the epitome of the scummy, thick-as-mince ersatz parliamentarians who belch out vacuous gobwaffle in between their expenses submissions.

A signed letter from 100 no-mark Tory droids was subsequently dispatched to establishment stalwart, Sir Keir, demanding that he intervene and rein her in. It wouldn’t have been hand-delivered, though, because he rarely sets foot in Parliament.

The Starmbannführer is just low-profiling until the tricky business of COVID-era opposition has blown over. After all, the current caper is not what he signed up for. His envisaged Brexit busman’s holiday has long since been cancelled and replaced with a real leadership gig. As with Boris, the COVID debacle brought a challenge that is well above his pay grade and infinitely more challenging to navigate with cardboard front benches.

So, the school meals affair has been left to a 22-year old sportsman with no political experience to lead the way and achieve something tangible. And to be fair, he’s having a decent crack at it. Whatever your view on whose responsibility it is to resolve, Marcus Rashford has played a blinder in terms of integrity and serving as a role model.

And now Ronald McDonald has stepped in to stump up 1,000,000 free meals to starving kids. He was probably worried about being upstaged as the UK’s most recognisable clown.

Too late for that, Ronald. And all we have left are dogs’ dinners or crappy meals from both local and central administrations.

It’s the clowning glory of big top government performance. Even their trapeze artists would get caught in the act.