What is it like being directly exposed to Nigel Farage mere hours after a serious political victory? All I can say is: Chernobyl. Sitting in a press conference at a hotel on Friday, just as “the Rolls-Royce of pollsters” put Farage’s party, Reform, one point ahead of the Conservatives — a stunning moment — I felt like an underpaid Soviet soldier approaching its dangerous, livid, hysterical core.
Yellow, molten, throbbing at the lectern: Farage is truly the Elephant’s Foot of politics.
“We are now the real opposition,” he brayed. It’s over for the Tories: “It’s gone,” he panted. “It’s done.”
I’m not going to lie: I couldn’t believe what was happening — and I expect you won’t be able to, either.
This has, so far,
