Theatre? Fuck No, This Is a Goddamn Circus!

This world’s gone so far up its own digital asshole it’s coughing up pixels. I’m sprawled in my filth-encrusted apartment, chain-smoking rollies, eyeballing the news feeds, and every single one’s vomiting the same frog-faced fuckwit and his pint-sloshing grin. Reality? This ain’t reality. This is a bad trip at the Birmingham Alexandra, a garish, brain-dead pantomime scripted by some cackling, shadow-dwelling prick who’s jerking off to our collective misery. I’m only dragging two of these bastards into this shitstorm of a column, ‘cause I’ve got better things to do – like peeling my sanity off the floor.

You wanna know what’s burning my retinas this week? It’s the grand illusion, the big con. The world’s a stage, and we’re all suckers in the cheap seats, clapping like trained seals for a pair of grifters: Farage, the pint-swilling showman, and Stephen Yaxley Lennon, aka Tommy Robinson, the coke-dusted messiah of the brainwashed. These two are the headliners in a circus of lies so blatant it’d make a street hustler blush.

First up, Nigel Farage, that smirking, frog-faced narcissist who’s got the media eating out of his clammy hand. This bastard’s got 500,000 shares in his own TV channel, a personal propaganda machine pumping his lies into the veins of the nation. He’s not a politician – he’s a goddamn ringmaster, cracking the whip while the masses dance to his tune. Every word from his gob is a polished turd, wrapped in Union Jack bunting and flung at the brain-dead crowd.

No plan, no substance, just three other MPs and a grin that could curdle milk. He’s inescapable, a walking billboard for his own ego, starring in a one-man show at the London Palladium of Bullshit. And the kicker? People love it. They’re queuing up to suck down his lies like cheap beer at a Brexit rally. Sorry, Reform UK rally. This isn’t leadership – it’s a fucking performance, and we’re all idiots for buying tickets.

Then there’s Stephen Yaxley Lennon, stage name Tommy Robinson, the grifting little shit who’s convinced his cult he’s the second coming of Christ. This guy’s got his followers so brain-fucked they’d swear he shits gold and farts freedom. You can hurl court transcripts, video evidence, and a goddamn PowerPoint of his crimes at them, and they’ll just scream “MSM lies!” or “The government’s out to get him!” I spent an entire afternoon slinging facts at these drones – court docs, news clips, the works – and got nothing but “It’s political!” and “You’re a rape apologist!”

What the fuck? Call him a cokehead conman, and suddenly you’re the devil’s PR guy. This isn’t persuasion; it’s a cult. Lennon’s got them believing he’s the only truth-teller in a world of lies, the lone crusader saving kids from some shadowy cabal. It’s pure, weapons-grade brainwashing, and it’s working. He’s not just a criminal – he’s a fucking illusionist, pulling rabbits out of hats while his fans cheer and the world burns.

This whole country’s gone straight to shit, spiralling down a neon-drenched toilet bowl. I’m clawing at Farage and Lennon in this column, but let’s not forget the greasy narrators of this apocalyptic fuck-fest: Matt Goodwin and Adam Brooks, the two-bit bards of bullshit. These pricks are the voiceover guys for this nightmare, slathering reality with their twisted, lie-soaked drivel to prop up our headlining clowns. Every word they spew is a fresh coat of rancid gloss, convincing the brain-dead masses that this steaming pile of horseshit is pure gold. They’re not just cheerleaders – they’re the goddamn scriptwriters, pumping Farage’s ego and Lennon’s martyr act so far up their own arses they’re choking on their own hype. Where do we go from here? Nowhere good, you filthy lot.

This whole gig’s a stage show, a grotesque burlesque where truth and reason get booed offstage. Farage and Lennon aren’t outliers; they’re the main act in a world so sick of thinking it’ll swallow any shiny lie fed to it. The audience – us, the dumb bastards clapping along – are too lazy, too scared, or too stoned to notice the strings. Is this reality? No, it’s a fucking farce, a circus of conmen ruling a planet too stupid to care.

Send your answers to the void, ‘cause I’m off to London to drown this nightmare in cheap whiskey and cheaper fights. Spider out.