Well, where to begin?

As we collide full-on with what the media likes to describe as the silly season there is no shortage of mendacious, despicable behaviour to go round. You just have to make the effort to look for it — and have a strong stomach.

While most other publications seem to be playing it traditionally at the moment, swelling their page count with features on swimwear and beach diets, never fear. We at the Star will continue to give righteous kickings to whomsoever requires one.

And there are a lot of them.

With Murray out of Wimbledon — as predicted — and England out of the World Cup — equally so — we can return our attention to the blatant gitter that passes for politics on this septic isle.

It’s almost as if it was planned that way.

While the chattering classes have been camping out in SW19, the majority of us have been dealing with the fallout of the coalition’s austerity plans, which amount to “sod the rest of you, we’re okay.”

Now where have we heard that before?

Prima facie evidence to that effect was not short on the ground this week. First up, we had a bottle of champagne being flogged for £45,000 at a Tory party knees-up because it had been signed by Margaret Thatcher.

Yes while the great unwashed, or at least those who can still afford £200 or so for a ticket, queued up for Glastonbury and a band which approves of its music being used as a form of torture — take a wild guess — the Tory donors were filing into a slap-up dinner which made millions of pounds for the party.

Now most people would think a bottle of Bolly defaced in such a manner would lower the price but apparently not.

This column had only recently overcome the trauma that resulted in it having to deal with Thatcher beer — and yes, baby grows! — at the Tory Party conference last year, only for all that hard fought for psychoanalysis to be replaced by, well, just plain psychos.

In a way it’s funny that some Tory backer stumped up almost 50 grand for a bottle of bubbly scrawled on by that vicious old battle-axe. But then, the fact that they can afford to and that it’s probably merely a drop in the ocean is galling in the extreme. 

Still the Tories know a thing or two about dubious investments, generally involving the arms trade and despotic regimes.

That wasn’t even the most tasteless item that has been auctioned at the annual cash cow, er I mean ball. 

Last year some lunatic bid £90,000 for a bust of David Cameron. It now apparently resides at the elitist Carlton Club which is at least fitting. It’s a hell of an expensive doorstop though.

It is perhaps timely that we reflect on the legacy of Thatcher and her lackeys, not just due to the fact it is the anniversary of the miners’ strike but because they are up to their necks in yet more sleaze and scandal.

Leon Brittan, for instance, has found himself on a somewhat sticky wicket — it doesn’t pay to over-analyse that — over a report that he claimed he did not recall receiving into serious allegations of child abuse.

The one-time home secretary had, apparently, no recollection of such a document landing on his desk — until the Sweeney started buzzing around when he suddenly rediscovered the gift of clarity.

Now, call me sceptical if you will, but one would have thought that such a revelation would have rung a few bells with the former EU deputy commissioner.

It’s amazing how often this happens isn’t it? But why focus on yesterday’s men when the current crop are behaving so moronically?

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, allow me to introduce exhibit A, George Osborne.

Following an ill-fated path first ploughed by Tony Blair, the Chancellor allowed himself to be grilled by school kids, presumably thinking he might be able to out-smart them. 

It just shows how wrong you can be. Asked what 7x8 was Osborne, who it should be recalled at this juncture controls the nation’s cash, ducked the question.

Asked to give the answer by seven-year-old Samuel Raddings from Manchester, the Chancellor said he made it a “rule in life not to answer a load of maths questions.” 

I bet he does. 

Now mathematics is anathema to this columnist. It barely scraped a GCSE in the subject and algebra is all Greek to it. But then, it’s never put itself forward as Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Osborne was also asked what he spent his pocket money on when he was merely a pre-pubescent parasite. Oxfordshire, probably.

But no, apparently he saved up to buy Scalextric though he could just have bought Silverstone.

Asked what his own children spent their pocket money on he said that they were not required to work for their money and could spend it on whatever they wanted. 

He said he “hoped” that they would help around the house but did not have to work “set hours” to get their cash and spend most of it “on Amazon.” 

Still at least he’s consistent. Even his kids are on zero-hour contracts, although of a rather different sort to most of the rest of us. 

All of which preamble brings us to Cameron and his inner circle, which appears to be of the ever-decreasing variety. This week alone has seen former aide Patrick Rock up on child pornography charges and erstwhile spin doctor Andy Coulson banged up for 18 months on phone-hacking charges.

Verily, we are all in the gutter. But some of us are looking at the bars.