We should have seen it coming, of course. A slightly tubby, (forcibly) retired politician waves his arms and stamps his feet around a ballroom floor. Hoots awa’! Expert judges – representatives of the metropolitan elite – wrinkle their noses and praise other contestants who can actually dance. But week after week our energetic stomper survives, living proof of provincial Britain’s rejection of talent or skill (in economics or anything else). Good for Edexit, strictly the spirit of our times. And could Boris please put himself down for an Argentinian tango in 2017?
