Where’s Boris? Where’s Mikey? You’d have thought the two Brexit architects would have been only too keen to share their cunning plans with a divided nation, but the merry pranksters had other things on their mind. Lunch. Cricket. Lunch. That sort of thing. So in their absence, the Sunday morning TV politics shows had to make do with decidedly B-list guests from the two main parties.

First up on the Marr show was the business secretary, Sajid Javid, whose sole achievement in government so far has been to be on holiday when Tata announced it was going to close down the British steel industry. “So when is the brutal punishment budget coming?” demanded Andrew Marr.

Javid looked astonished that someone might have thought that when he said he was supporting remain in the referendum campaign he had actually meant it. “The thing is, everything is probably going to be OK,” he said. Every time the business secretary tries to say something reassuring, he knocks another few billion pounds off the value of the stock market. “Have you actually spoken to the chancellor since Friday?” Marr asked. “Um, er, I’ve been in touch.” Translation: I’ve sent him a couple of emails that he hasn’t bothered to reply to. Or just no. Divided country, divided government.

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Realising that trying to get sense out of Javid was a total waste of time, Marr tried his luck with Iain Duncan Smith. “What’s the plan?” he said. IDS’s face bristled with irritation. Why was everyone so keen on hearing about a plan? Couldn’t they understand that Brexit was never about having a plan? It was about taking back control of not having a plan. “How do you mean?” he said, defensively.

Marr considerately chose to start with something easy. Something tangible. The £350m per week that Vote Leave had said would be used to fund the NHS. “We never said that,” IDS replied.

“Yes you did. So even if there was £350m per week, which there isn’t, how are you going to fulfil all of your other spending promises?”

“We never made any commitments. We just made a series of promises that were possibilities.” Well, thanks for clearing that one up.

IDS reached for his Brexit media training manual. Page 3: when your appearance is going tits up and you can’t think of anything to say, lean forward and try to make eye contact with your interviewer. IDS leaned forward. Marr recoiled, unnerved by the coldness of the intimacy. Dead eyes, dead heart.

“We do need to get going on the shape of Brexit,” IDS admitted, somewhat late in the day. Three months ago might have been a better time to start. “But we will be getting some experts in to help with our renegotiations.” Back home, Gove choked on a pre-lunch glass of champagne. Experts? He’d absolutely forbidden any experts from being engaged in anything. How dare that fool IDS go so seriously off-message.

Over on ITV, Robert Peston had to make do with the foreign secretary, Philip Hammond. It must have been nice for Phil’s family to get him out the house for the morning, even if it wasn’t such a joy for everyone else. Phil’s approach to reassuring the country is sleep therapy. “We all just need to go back to bed,” he snored. When the foreign secretary talks, the country nods off. After his own lacklustre performance for the remain campaign, he looked increasingly like a dead man walking. But since he looks that way even when things aren’t going quite as badly as they might be for him, that may not be such a terminal career signifier.

Not to be left out, Labour was also keen to reassure the country it could make a good fist of acting like a headless chicken. Ever since Jeremy Corbyn accidentally put his X in the box for Britain to leave the EU and a poll suggested about a third of those unhappy few who voted Labour in the last general election wouldn’t do so again, there have been moves in the parliamentary Labour party to depose their leader for someone who might stand a chance of winning. Hilary Benn had been the most vocal and had duly been sacked as shadow foreign secretary the previous night.

On Marr, Benn was at his most sphinx-like. “I am a huge admirer of Jeremy, but I think he’s truly hopeless,” was one of his kinder observations. Benn has always been a man who prefers to do his killing with kindness. “No, I wasn’t surprised to be sacked,” he added. No shit, Sherlock. While Benn was on air, the shadow health secretary, Heidi Alexander, chose to announce her resignation. On Peston, she gave her explanation. “It just seemed like a good idea that as the Conservatives are tearing themselves apart in a leadership struggle, that Labour should do exactly the same thing,” she said coyly. “It’s what the public would have wanted.” Liberté, égalité, stupidité and all that.

Meanwhile, on the Sunday Politics – it was one of those mornings when there were so many car crashes taking place at the same time it was hard to know where to look – the shadow chancellor, John McDonnell was saying he didn’t care if the entire shadow cabinet resigned as Jeremy was going nowhere. “Look,” he said menacingly. “There may be only 400,000 people left in the country who are willing to vote Labour, but they are all members of the party and adore Jeremy, so he can stay as leader forever and ever, hooray.”

This prompted Gloria De Piero to say she was also going to resign from the shadow cabinet. By the end of the day, Cat Smith, one of the few true Corbyn devotees left among Labour MPs, could find herself trebling up as shadow foreign secretary, shadow health secretary and shadow equalities minister after little more than a year in parliament.

Here a cluster-fuck, there a cluster-fuck, everywhere a cluster-fuck. The rest of the EU must be quite enjoying this. Even if we aren’t.