What Was the Point?

Across the land, grass has withered and died under the relentless glare of the burning sun. A climate catastrophe to be sure, but one that serves as an apt metaphor for the travails of Nigel Farage. At least as it exists in his and Reform's political imaginary. Instead of a drought, this was supposed to be Farage's evergreen summer. A hapless Prime Minister in office, racist pogroms to egg on and exploit, immigration to bang on about, and an establishment stitch up re: the parliamentary standards investigation to cry over. The master plan in forcing the by-election was about crushing the other parties, cementing Farage as the enfant terrible of British politics, and recapturing a sense of momentum - something that has been lacking, despite handily winning May's council elections in England and giving Labour a drubbing in the Senedd election. As we know, the one thing this elegant demonstration of 11-dimensional chess did not factor in was the refusal of his opponents to play ball.…