So now we have two-tier grieving. Progressives are allowed to mourn lost colleagues, but populists are not. How else to explain the media mauling of Nigel Farage merely for venting his sorrow over the death of Ann Widdecombe? He’s been branded a pantomime mourner, a death exploiter, a weeper of insincere tears. It’s been obscene, and frankly cruel.
When Farage lays a wreath and voices his fear of violence, he’s tarred as a death-supping opportunist
Even by the standards of the Farage Derangement Syndrome that’s been gathering pace these past few weeks, the attacks on him for lamenting the killing of a colleague have been mad. He’s “exploiting” her death for “political propaganda”, howls the leftish press. The Times rebuked him for turning tragedy into “propaganda” by speculating that her killing may have been politically motivated. But recent developments suggest he may have a point: counter-terrorism cops have taken over the investigation.
Even his laying of flowers at Widdecombe’s home elicited haughty scoffing from the grief police. X was awash with infantile snark about how he was only “doing it for the cameras”. It’s a “performance”, people sneered. Behold the brain rot of Faragephobia, where your mind is so fried by Nige hate you can’t even accept that he might genuinely be cut up over the violent death of a friend and ally.
