While the debate continues as to the kind of oddball candidates that Nigel “Thirsty” Farage and his fellow saloon bar propper-uppers are attracting, and whether they will help or harm UKIP’s prospects in the upcoming elections to the European Parliament (EP), one fine specimen of party loyalty out there in East London has demonstrated that he is prone to easily losing touch with reality.
Step forward Roger Da Costa, whose name may look suspiciously like he is Portuguese, but is a proud Brit, honestly (there are rather a lot of these in and around UKIP, aren’t there?). Roger the Whopper Teller, whose ability to brazenly recycle dodgy EU-bashing Tweets this blog considered the other day, became distinctly flaky when put under the spotlight.
The disintegration of Roger’s grip on reality began when a Twitter user who goes by the name of An Island Liberal told “if you even [sic] come across Rog the #ukip minister for misinformation you must read this excellent blog”, and linked to my post, which was moderately good for a brief massage of the ego. But the paranoid Da Costa saw a conspiracy afoot (yes, I know, 12 inches as a rule).
So he immediately issued a denunciation: “Lefty @liberalisland who also goes by the name of @zelo_street has been getting really upset about my Tweets criticising the EU and Labour”. Where does one start? Ridicule and upset are not the same thing, the two accounts are not run by the same person – I don’t know who An Island Liberal is – and criticism and telling whoppers are also two different concepts.
No, Roger now believed that I was watching his every move (no, don’t laugh)! How someone in Crewe can do this did not occur to the UKIP stalwart, and so he came back with “So you’re not just my Twitter stalker, you’re my stalker outside Twitter too. Am so honoured to have a lefty as a fan”. Ho yus. And as the man said in Diamonds Are Forever, shove your honour.
I had to break the news to Roger that he was being called out for dishonesty, and remind him “You’re off your trolley. But carry on digging yourself deeper”. His response, which he has now for some reason deleted, was to try and make light of his smear and suggest I visit the Thatched House pub in Upminster, which, if it is home to more of the UKIP gang, I’ll pass on, thanks.
Roger knows: just because he’s not paranoid doesn’t mean he isn’t being watched.