In a development that has left political analysts scrambling for their smelling salts and a stiff drink, a former Downing Street aide is currently leading the race for Governor of California, while a loyal Biden ally flounders in the dust like a beached whale on a sunny Malibu shoreline. Yes, dear reader, the political merry-go-round has taken another dizzying turn, and this time it's a British bureaucrat who has his hands on the brass ring.
The man in question, one Barnaby 'Biff' Thistlethwaite's distant cousin by profession only, is none other than Sir Humphrey Appleby's spiritual successor, a chap named Jeremy 'Jez' Fotherington-Smythe. Jez, as he insists on being called, despite looking like he's never touched a football in his life, was once the deputy assistant to the deputy assistant of the Prime Minister's cat. Now he's on the verge of running the most populous state in America. The sheer lunacy of this would make a mule laugh.
How did this happen? Well, it appears the good people of California have grown tired of celebrities and career politicians. They want someone who knows how to make a proper cup of tea, file a ministerial red box, and perhaps lose a Labrador in the process. Jez's campaign slogan? "I've seen worse chaos in a Whitehall canteen." It's a hit. His platform includes mandatory afternoon tea breaks, replacing the Golden Gate Bridge's toll booths with turnstiles for cricket matches, and a proposal to rename Los Angeles 'Little London-on-Sea'.
Meanwhile, the Biden ally, a man whose name I forget because he's so bland his biography reads like a dryer instruction manual, is trailing badly. He's tried everything. He's shaken hands with babies. He's eaten a taco on camera. He even promised to build a wall... made of universal healthcare. Nothing works. The public can smell his desperation. It smells like stale coffee and focus-group feedback.
The political pundits are, predictably, beside themselves. They wring their hands and clutch their pearls, wondering how a foreign operative can waltz in and snatch the golden state from under their noses. But the truth is simple: Jez offers something they don't. He offers the glorious, absurd spectacle of a man who once had to brief the PM on the difference between a corgi and a Labrador, now grappling with wildfires, earthquakes, and the Kardashian family. It's like watching a penguin try to negotiate with a polar bear. You can't look away.
Will he win? Who knows? But in a world where reality has taken a backseat to satire, anything is possible. And if Jez does win, I'm already drafting my request for the position of Official State Tea Taster. It's the least a chap can do after losing the Prime Minister's dog.
