“At least he wasn’t boring” has been the almost uniform comment about the ejection of Winston Raymond Peters from Parliament on Saturday.

Even a number of commentators who railed against the guy concede it will be more boring without having Peters around.

Well, excuse me while I yawn.

Winston Peters was boring. He was predictable in his inability to answer a straight question with a straight answer. The tedious, interminable and pointless verbal charades that would result were about as interesting as listening to recordings of old couples squabbling over whether they bought their first gramophone player in 1937 or 1938.

The scandals-that-weren’t; the incessant baiting of the media; the predictable accusations of a plot by unnamed rich people against him; the insistence that he and only he knew “what is really going on in this country" (a favourite Winston phrase) … wake me when it’s over.

Any parent will tell you incessant attention-seeking behaviour is the opposite of exciting.

Even his one-liners were seldom original: they were usually cribbed from a dictionary of after-dinner jokes. “I refuse to get into a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent” was one favourite.

But it was the sheer pointlessness of most of Peters’ shenanigans that brought out the greatest level of ennui.

His career, which began with so much promise, produced little in the way of lasting monuments. The superannuation payout is now 66% of the average wage, not 65%.

That’s about it.

Peters shared one thing, though, with a number of other senior politicians who are now bowing out – in particular, senior Labour politicians Helen Clark and Michael Cullen.

They had all become mostly hulking collections of scar tissue from old political battles.

Not that I’d suggest Clark or Cullen have had political careers of anything like the final nullity of achievement which was Peters’ legacy. The two leaders of the outgoing government can point to some solid achievements.

But the most important thing about this election is it has been – with two exceptions – the clearing out of old politicos obsessed with fighting old battles.

The whole Labour campaign theme of “trust” was based on the presumption that John Key would leap out this week crying “Ha ha!! Sucked in badly!!” and brandishing a copy of Ruth Richardson’s Mother of all Budgets.

In short, it was based on the re-fighting of old battles. It was like Sir Robert Muldoon, fighting his last election as prime minister in 1984, still going on about Arnold Nordmeyer’s 1958 Black Budget.

I mentioned two exceptions to the clean-out of old generation politicians. Those are, of course, the old Labour party comrades, Jim Anderton and Roger Douglas.

Both are well past their prime (they both turn 71 this summer) but both are throwing their weight around already (Anderton with his “I’ve been a one-man opposition before” comments on election night; Douglas with his subsequent claims to some sort of economic supremo role).

We know National doesn’t want Douglas in the cabinet. It is not a bad bet Act leader Rodney Hide won’t want him in the cabinet either, although Hide has to put up a bit of a show.

Here’s a thought: how about Douglas for chairman of the finance and expenditure select committee? There will be plenty of tax legislation coming through, as well as a re-write of the emissions trading legislation, which that committee handled in the last Parliament. There will be no shortage of work.

It might also draw him into dealing with today’s political battles.