High life | 27 June 2019

The Duke of Marlborough gave a toast last week that brought the house down during a Turning Point dinner for those of us resolved to end the threat of cultural Marxism once and for all. (Much easier said than done; the ‘crapitalists’ of the entertainment industry control the culture.) The hosts were John Mappin and Charlie Kirk, a rising star in America, and Nigel Farage was the star attraction. (Outside the usual rent-a-crowd of lefty agitators were screaming quaint and original insults such as ‘scum’ and ‘fascists’.) Jamie Marlborough is living up to his name and rank. He exhibits none of the bullshit of Rory Stewart who, when asked what his greatest weakness was, answered: where I went to school. Jamie is proud of his heritage, his country’s history and institutions, and — these are my words, not his — thinks that probably all Belgians have ever done is eat French fries. (That is all they have done.)

A disdain for patriotism goes hand-in-hand with those angry, twisted faces the Bolshevik Broadcasting Corporation nowadays gives unlimited access to, while it mounts non-stop negative coverage of Conservatives and Brexiters. Acting and politics are among the most undignified of professions, and yet very good people enter both. Not the poor little Greek boy. The idea of having to sit on a stool and be interrogated by a woman loathingly eager to score points, and having to answer politely, is anathema to me, but then I’m proud and don’t take crap from hacks. Instead, here’s my failsafe plan for Tories and Brexiters to win and win big come what may: Boris sticks Nigel in the House of Lords and names him chief negotiator with Barnier. Better yet, Boris or Hunt offer Nigel a major cabinet post, thus ensuring a victory for the good guys if it comes down to an election.