Three neglected kids finding stability with foster carers, then being removed and cast to choppy, emotional seas again due to their foster carers being Ukip supporters, Ukip then experiencing genuine warmth from Britain, rather than the typical stifled smirks. Those brief, heady moments last Saturday post-Rotherham fostering outrage must have felt jolly enlivening. Nosebleed making, even.
Who knew we could feel warm and fuzzy about poor Ukip? And this, we hear, is where disheartened Tories are shifting? Until now, Ukip to many people meant “that Nigel Wotsit bloke”. Him who looks like a ruddy-cheeked Rotary Club treasurer, him with the corduroy elbow patches who they humour on Question Time once a series and bung him on the end chair reserved for comedians and pop stars with a GCSE A*. Him who answers all questions – from bankers to Boris’s hair – by invoking an image of a “Brussels Fatcat!” committing “fund misuse which verges on fraud!”.
Personally, I always imagine Ukip is where lacklustre former BNP supporters seep once reaching that certain age where marching about loses its appeal in favour of a lovely plate of HobNobs and an extended chunter about parking violations outside the synagogue in Gerald from number 47’s lounge. “Fruitcakes, loonies and closet racists”, as Cameron described them in 2006. Farage has never forgiven or forgotten this swipe.
In truth, the Rotherham story was the best darned thing that ever happened to Farage’s crew. I’m not suggesting anyone would enjoy a child suffering for political gain. This is quite my point. No one in their right mind enjoys a child suffering. And now here was a big spotlight on two seemingly delightful Ukip-supporting philanthropic types who give their lives to providing love to those care-worn kids that other people have let down.
These caring Ukip people aren’t simply the same as me and you, they’re probably better people than me and you. As Saint Heather of Smallicus said: “What have you done today, to make YOU feel proud?” I cast my eye idly around my house as I write this and see a distinct dearth of foster children. Pillorying Ukip suddenly felt very wrong. “They’re only Ukip,” many Brits possibly thought. “Harmless sorts who want us to be our own little island with the right to eat wonky cucumbers or chuck out hook-handed clerics when they begin to get on our wick. In fact, they’re like the Tories before they went soft.”
But by Monday, as mumblings of a Tory/Ukip pact began to gain momentum, it’s been fun to see the wheels come off the Ukip battlebus again. Not that they’d have a bus, more a Volvo estate or perhaps a Vauxhall Rascal with “I’ve rode Ravenglass Railway” stickers. Farage – who claims not to be a “career poltician”, just someone who “tells the truth” – immediately took to Twitter to announce: “No pact: this is war.” Brilliant thinking, Nige. This is precisely who we want near real power, someone who logs on to Twitter declaring “war” at the first hint of an olive branch.
I’ve had a think, Nigel, and I’d prefer a “career politician” as in “someone who can hold down a job as one”. Within 24 hours Farage’s next strong PR move was suggesting Cameron be ousted. “If Cameron went and somebody pragmatic, grown up and sensible like Michael Gove was leader, you might think then we could sit around the table and have a proper discussion... open-minded, doesn’t throw abuse around and thinks issues through – he would be the right kind of person.”
Nigel, for the love of Moses, you need to let it go about Cameron’s fruitcake gag. He made it in 2006. Elton John lets feuds drop quicker than you do. Also, placing in the public’s mind a disconcerting vision of a country led by yourself and Michael Gove isn’t winning any votes from ANY of the parties. And now with the full media spotlight on Ukip who, as you remember, whatever their politics, just want the best for children, welcome Winston McKenzie, Ukip culture spokesman, who said this week – following Rotherham – that placing children with gay or lesbian couples is “child abuse”.
McKenzie, who is standing in the Croydon North by-election tomorrow, said, “To say to a child, ‘I am having you adopted by two men who kiss regularly, but don’t worry about it’ – that is abuse. It is a violation of a child’s human rights because that child has no opportunity to grow up under normal circumstances.”
Winston doesn’t sound like much of a career politician either. Wait till he finds out there are homosexuals involved with “culture”, too. He’ll be bloody livid.
If John Lewis has the best Christmas ads, the polls are lying
A survey of 1,000 people has apparently found that the John Lewis Christmas Advert – you know, the one with the creepy, kleptomaniac snowman and the cat in a blender version of “The Power of Love” by Frankie Goes To Hollywood – is the best festive advert of 2012. I demand a recount, or at least a good look at all those who voted. The same types who have already gift wrapped Olly Murs: the Biography, really enjoy Quality Street toffee penny and write the words “Merry Crimble” on gift-tags, I wager.
The wages of filth will be hard to spend
“Jake from Two And A Half Men means nothing. He is a non-existent character,” says 19-year-old Angus T Jones of Two and a Half Men in a saddening, cheap home video posted online yesterday. “If you watch Two And A Half Men, please stop watching Two And A Half Men. Please stop watching it. Stop filling your head with filth.”
I’ve watched Angus grow up from a plump, comedic imp – grabbing a lot of the prime lines in the occasionally funny US ratings smash hit – to an awkward teen and now, bang, suddenly a member of the Forerunner Christian Church. Forerunner seems like a cult to me, but religions loathe that word. Angus’s mentor from Forerunner sits close by as Angus delivers his little speech. Angus has reportedly earned as much as £220k an episode over a decade. I wonder who’ll help Angus spend those wages of filth now?
I think I prefer the Scientologists. At least they spice things up with the odd spaceship.