B ack to the future. Some of us can remember the days when the key to surviving a nuclear war was to kneel down under the kitchen table and keep your eyes closed till you were incinerated or died of radiation poisoning. Now the government wants you to hoard some baked beans and a few litres of water in the hope of getting through the next three days.

But when the apocalypse does come, you can bank on there being one survivor. The politician with seemingly limitless powers of regeneration. As one party of his dies, so another rises from the ashes. Fuelled not by water and tinned food, but by alcohol and grievance. Somehow, Nigel Farage is always the victim in his own story. The man who is forever misunderstood.

Nige must be the unluckiest politician alive. The man who has only ever wanted the best for everybody – deporting immigrants is clearly in their own best interests, even if it involves death or torture – keeps getting mired in scandal. There’s the money. Of course there is.…