James Delingpole - the Telegraph's resident bat shit crazy anti-science tin foil hat wearer is standing for parliament. Corby-trouser-press in Leicestershire is the borough that will be retaining his deposit after the by-election.
The constituency, having some fields in it, falls right into JD rant territory and as such he's standing on a ticket of building dry stone walls, or fracking for gas or using windmills to grind wheat or something. I'll be honest I didn't really pay attention. All I know is he's rabidly against coal or nuclear power or something and loves gas, even more than Sid did.
Anyway - whatever madness is in his views - he's taken to the self-publication circuit like a tramp to meths. What tickled me was his attempt at electioneering involving the ubiquitous photo op of him nibbling the skull of an infant. The woman in the background can obviously see traces of grey matter running down his chin and staining his tank top.
The constituency, having some fields in it, falls right into JD rant territory and as such he's standing on a ticket of building dry stone walls, or fracking for gas or using windmills to grind wheat or something. I'll be honest I didn't really pay attention. All I know is he's rabidly against coal or nuclear power or something and loves gas, even more than Sid did.
Anyway - whatever madness is in his views - he's taken to the self-publication circuit like a tramp to meths. What tickled me was his attempt at electioneering involving the ubiquitous photo op of him nibbling the skull of an infant. The woman in the background can obviously see traces of grey matter running down his chin and staining his tank top.
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| I can feel his intelligence seeping into my being |
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