And yet, just from a surfeit of human kindness, I feel like offering Farage some consolation: he could have fallen in line over Tommy Robinson, he could have signed up to Musk’s other tweet-proposition that Jess Phillips is a “rape genocide apologist”, and Musk would have found something more unhinged to say about British politics. Never mind that Musk is unconstrained in these pronouncements by reality or evidence; it’s all about the spectacle. Musk’s opinion-giving is dictatorial in its purest sense; he dares his acolytes to refute him, the better to flex his power over them. He wants to replace their observed reality with his own, and it has to be in public. He won’t be satisfied – and this goes for every politician he has in his pocket, up to and including the new US president – until he’s forced them to resile from their core positions while the world watches. This is why he picked a fight with Maga over visas before the inauguration was even cold, when reducing immigration was at the core of their offer. It’s chilling to witness, even if you have no time, let alone love, for its object, and don’t care to parse the fine differences of their dog-whistle politics. I’m not even looking forward to the bit where he gets Trump to surrender on the subject of high-skilled immigration. Nobody likes a sadist.
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