Liz Truss may have set the gold standard for political implosions during her 49-day premiership, but her post-Downing Street antics suggest she’s determined to make her catastrophic tenure look like the warm-up act. The woman who once reduced the British economy to rubble in record time is now playing dress-up with the far-right, cosying up to conspiracy theorists and populist/political grifters. If you thought “pork markets” was her most embarrassing moment, buckle up.
The Mini-Budget Meltdown: Or How to Tank a Country in Seven Weeks
In just seven weeks, Liz Truss didn’t just drop the ball—she hurled it off a cliff, tied it to a rocket, and aimed it straight at the UK economy. Her mini-budget was so disastrously bad it became a case study in how not to govern. Unfunded tax cuts for the rich? Genius. Ignoring basic economic principles? Inspired. Watching the pound nosedive, interest rates surge, and pension funds teeter on the edge? Chef’s kiss.
Her choice of Kwasi Kwarteng as Chancellor didn’t help. It was like handing a toddler the keys to a Lamborghini and telling them to drive fast but "trust their instincts." The inevitable crash came, and Kwarteng was booted faster than Truss could say, “This definitely isn’t my fault.”
And then there was that lettuce. Yes, the Daily Star’s live-streamed race between Truss’s premiership and a wilting iceberg lettuce wasn’t just a joke—it was a prophecy. The lettuce won. It now even has a blue plaque outside a Tesco, immortalising the most edible part of her legacy.
Leaving a £40 Billion Mess (and Taking a Victory Lap)
When Truss finally packed her things (all two of them) and vacated Downing Street, she left the Tories with a gaping £40 billion-sized hole in the public purse. You know, because nothing says “pro-business” like shattering market confidence and sending investors running for the hills. The irony, of course, is that her deregulation obsession—a crusade for “market freedom”—resulted in one of the most spectacular market collapses in UK history. Bravo, Liz. Truly.
From No. 10 to CPAC: The Far-Right Glow-Up
After being unceremoniously booted from No. 10, you might think Liz would quietly retreat to write her memoirs (title idea: How to Lose a Country in 49 Days). But no. Instead, she rebranded as a far-right mascot. Truss has taken her act across the pond, headlining events like the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC), where she shared a stage with Steve Bannon and other alt-right luminaries. Because when your credibility at home is in tatters, why not hitch your wagon to America’s most infamous political circus?
Her CPAC speeches have been, let’s say, “unhinged.” Calling for a “bigger bazooka” to fight leftist ideologies? Check. Decrying environmentalists and trans activists as secret saboteurs of her premiership? Naturally. Praising Donald Trump’s “leadership”? Oh, Liz, you’re just too much.
If aligning with Bannon and borrowing from the Trump playbook is her idea of a comeback strategy, it’s... bold. Or desperate. Let’s go with desperate.
Pork Markets, Crashing Economies, and Banner Bombshells
Let’s not forget the classics. Long before she became a far-right darling, Truss was infamous for her hilariously awkward “pork markets” speech. Delivered with the enthusiasm of a second-grader at a talent show, it’s still replayed as a cringe compilation favourite. But the hits didn’t stop there.
In 2024, while promoting her new book (likely a riveting mix of delusion and denial), Truss was confronted by protest group Led By Donkeys. A banner dropped behind her, emblazoned with the words, “I Crashed the Economy.” The look on her face? Priceless. Her immediate exit? Even better. For a woman so fond of deregulation, she sure ran away like someone slapped a red tape warning on her forehead.
What’s Driving the Truss Trainwreck?
Why has Liz embraced the far-right so enthusiastically? Some say it’s a coping mechanism—a way to cling to relevance after her meteoric fall from grace. Others think it’s strategic, a pivot to align herself with the populist wave sweeping the disillusioned masses. Either way, it’s a staggering fall from her early days as a Thatcher fangirl, where she dreamed of being Britain’s next Iron Lady. Spoiler alert: you need competence for that.
Her flirtation with figures like Tommy Robinson and her silence when Bannon called him a “hero” is just another nail in the coffin of her political respectability. At this point, Liz Truss isn’t so much a political figure as she is a walking punchline—a cautionary tale for anyone thinking about playing fast and loose with reality.
From Maverick to Meme
Liz Truss’s story is one for the ages. In just 49 days, she went from a leader to a liability, from No. 10 to CPAC, from economic “visionary” to far-right provocateur. Her journey has been as baffling as it is hilarious. And while the world picks up the pieces of her economic catastrophe, she’s out there, doubling down on her delusions and basking in her infamy.
It’s almost impressive, really. Liz Truss didn’t just crash the economy—she owned it, pivoted, and turned the whole disaster into a weird, far-right performance art piece. So, here’s to you, Liz. May your lettuce live longer than your relevance.
That’s the Truss effect: chaos, cringe, and conspiracy theories. What’s next? A podcast with Andrew Tate? Stay tuned. Or, you know, don’t.
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