At the Times, Tim Montgomerie analyses the minds of potential UKIP voters and advises everyone to listen to them more, and to condemn them a little less. At Labour List, Sunny does the same after concluding that we shouldn't call the UKIPpers "racist".
Throughout the land, opinion hacks drop article after report after column describing the party's ludicrous work-shy, logic-defying, cash-sucking, oblivious, bumbling numbskullery on the public, and watch in horror as it affects UKIP's polling numbers not a jot. Why, they ask themselves, are these dribbling mutants polling well, despite their glaringly obvious flaws, deformities and inadequacies?
And I understand their confusion. The average UKIP candidate looks like somebody glued a pair of googly eyes onto a shaved scrotum, dresses like a refugee from 1938 and talks like they've just stumbled pissed out of a Mosleyite village fete. The party's policies are composed of the most offensively slapdash, will-this-do raft of retarded inanities to embarrass British democracy since H'Angus the Monkey stood for election on a platform of free bananas.
There's little need to reiterate the sheer yakking know-nothingry of the movement here, but if a section of the public is repeatedly telling you that it would - literally, not metaphorically - vote for a purple balloon full of cold piss on a stick, provided somebody told them that it was against immigration, gay marriage and smoking bans, then the answer to this question of why so many people are planning to vote for them is pretty obvious:
It's because they're idiots*.
Now, I don't mean "idiots" in the sense that they have congenitally limited mental capacities or anything. That would be sad, and would render mockery inappropriate.
I mean that they're idiots in the sense that, to pick only one hilariously obvious example, only a moron would protest-vote the European Union by deliberately choosing to pay the most feckless bunch of lazy-arsed, clock-punching graft-dodgers in the land vast sums of cash to bunk off work in Brussels.
See, Tim Montgomerie has to try to talk round the UKIPpers, because he's trying to corral them back into the Tory fold. Sunny has to kid on that they're not a pack of xenophobes, because he's a committed fan of big-tent politics.
Me, I don't like big-tent politics so much. I'm more of a Get-The-Fuck-Out-Of-My-Tent politics kind of guy.
I couldn't give a damn who wins the European elections and couldn't care less whether people are fleeing the main parties to join great clattering cavalcades of wowsers, jingoes and dimwits. If people want to be represented by a bunch of Jim Henson puppets who are plainly thicker than shitty jam, well frankly, fuck 'em - they deserve what they get.
Tim worries that UKIP might screw the Tories at the next election, whereas I hope that they do. Sunny worries about Labour bleeding voters to them, whereas I think there's basically no point in trying to charm these utter wallopers back towards sanity.
If folk are spiteful enough on the topics of crime and immigration and Europe and gay marriage and what have you that they're now considering plumping for Farage's freakshow, there ain't no winning 'em over by stroking the backs of their hands and muttering sweet nothings, people.
Which is why I disdain all these endless calls to understand the poor precious dears and their concerns and disillusionment; why I decline invitations to blow each and every one of these delicate little snowflakes in the hope that they can be brought round to a vague form of half-reason, if only we tickle their balls just so.
Bluntly, half of these folk are tottering coffin-dodgers, and most of the rest are either angry yokels, spite-crazed nutters, glowering cretins or out-and-out fruitcakes.
Let 'em have their day in the sun, I say, and good luck to them. People who struggle this badly with reality are going to need it, but that doesn't mean that the rest of us have to indulge their fantasies.
*The voters, not the party. Although they're all idiots, really.