Poll To Poll

So, I got out and did my bit for democracy and sanity for another year, and all to no apparent avail. It was always on the cards that Farage and his loose coalition of gurning simpletons would claim an avalanche of votes; when you're essentially standing on a platform of "the EU: aren't they arseholes?" and "all those other politicians: aren't they arseholes?", you could grab a board and surf your way right into Westminster on the wave of public resentment.

Or not, as the case may be. While UKIP's performance in the European election was a clear message of dissatisfaction about the EU in its current format - a dissatisfaction I happen to share - the public wasn't quite so keen to put Farage and his mates in charge of local councils and have them looking after the daily grind of life close to home. Could it be that the more sensible fringes of an outraged electorate looked at UKIP's uneasy alliance of working-class nationalists/xenophobes, middle-class libertarians and upper-class Thatcherites and wondered how these disparate groups - who fundamentally clash on any number of social and economic issues - can possibly hold together in power given that they've been fracturing into splinter groups even in opposition?

Quite possibly. Or, more simply than that, they just wanted to send a message to the current bloated and ignorant political class. Like the teenage girl screaming at her father that if he doesn't give her some freedom and respect, she'll move in with her new boyfriend Ricky - the tattooed crackhead who lives in a one-bedroom flat surrounded by stolen electrical appliances and his prodigious collection of animal porn - her desire for freedom and respect is absolutely genuine, and real enough that part of her would be willing to carry out the threat if need be. But the voice of maturity in her mind is already whispering that maybe, just maybe, Ricky isn't really the answer. Because if she's so convinced by his virtues, there'd be no need for the threats and posturing; she'd already be loading her belongings into the removal van.

I don't see that van parked outside, Mr Farage. Do you?