You May Be Brown, But You Can Still Back Zac

Lord Crosby of Deadcat has once more opened Zac Goldsmith's mouth and vomited forth his wisdom upon the world. Goldsmith, whose personal touch in the campaign thus far has been to burble that he rather thinks he ought to be mayor because he rather thinks it might be rather rah-rah and he's dodged enough tax to have earned it and BEWARE THE WRATH OF KHAN and um ah um ah, has proclaimed his rival guilty of associating with extremists, sort of. Goldsmith has been helped, if that is the word I want, by a bit of additional Sadiq-smearing from the present incumbent and Mad Tessie May. The London Haystack had a bit of a blather about links with a London imam whose views are so obnoxious that Khan obviously shares them to the letter; while Mad Tessie May "said she was worried about whether" Khan knew another Muslim who wrote some words on a website - a crime against humanity of such magnitude that even the trendy lefties in charge of Guantánamo Bay decided to release him.

It is all frightfully tolerant and democratic, of course; and doubtless Lord Crosby of Deadcat is saving up something special to disgorge as the frenzy builds to peak Britishness. Having recently taught Londoners that everyone named Patel is an Indian and therefore a jewel-clutching Narendra Modi fan, it can only be a matter of time before Lord Crosby decides to edify us with the idea that everyone named Khan is a stripey undesirable from the Jungle Book. In preparation for the great day Goldsmith, the stooge, must stand outside mosques handing out targeted leaflets ("The Prophet would back Zac! Vote for Sadiq Khan and your 72 virgins will be cut to 16 in a crazed public transport lab-rat experiment!") and burbling about reaching out to everybody.