Is this some cosmic karma for a past existence in which the town executed hundreds of innocent women and children? Surely, even then, enough is enough. For the past few years Clacton seems to have been the centre of some abusive psychological experiment.
The sort the Americans used to run in the 1950s and 60s, that have long since been banned. One run by Nigel Farage and designed merely to fuel his narcissistic dreams, with the voters mere cannon fodder. Clacton’s relationship with Nige is and always has been entirely one-sided.
The town’s job is merely to vote for him, whenever he commands. Even for byelections that are entirely unnecessary and will possibly have to be re-run before the end of the year. On a turnout of just 44%, little more than 60% of the voters duly obliged on Thursday, even though none of the main parties were standing and Nige’s main opponent was a man with a bin on his head.
Maybe parts of Clacton are waking up, and are fed up with Farage taking the piss out of them. For a few weeks during an election campaign, Nige breaks the habit of a lifetime and makes two or three visits to the Essex coast. He gets someone to buy him a beer or an ice-cream – most local businesses don’t take crypto – and poses with a pet supporter his team have rounded up for the day.
He then gets the hell out of Clacton as fast as he can. And that’s all it takes for Nige to win. He isn’t a man who puts in the unnecessary hard yards.
And what does Clacton get in return? An MP who scarcely bothers to turn up to Westminster. And who, when he does, invariably fails to give his constituency a second thought.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
