James Delingpole is a writer, blogger, podcaster, entertainer and troublemaker who has been variously described as “a radical 18th century pamphleteer lambasting the Whig establishment” and “an evil, hateful Tory ****”, only without the asterisks obviously. Almost everyone who meets him says he is much nicer in real life than in print. But he can’t help being the way he is because, a bit like Cassandra, he was born with a truly terrible curse: He is right about everything.
Though educated at Malvern College and Christ Church, Oxford, he is most definitely not–as some fools would have it–a member of the Establishment. If he were he would be a) rich b) a bitter Remoaner and c) a Trump-hater. He is none of those things. But at least he can sleep at night.
His likes include:
Drury’s London Superior leaf tea; flat white coffee; horses; bodyboarding and trying to surf on Bantham Beach; wild swimming in the Wye Valley; grouse shooting (invites welcome) in the Scottish Highlands; gin and tonic; Martini cocktails; most other sorts of cocktail; Glastonbury Festival (yes, still); war films; driving his V6 boy racer Golf too fast; Brexit; Gawain and the Green Knight; cryptocurrencies; Tipping Point; unspoilt coves in the Mediterranean
His dislikes include:
genderfluid pronouns; Third Wave feminism; Cultural Marxism; dog poo; fox poo; having to floss your teeth; Social Justice Warriors; Davos Man; the Liberal Elite; weak tea; watery coffee; semi-skimmed milk; Waitrose sole goujons which haven’t had the skin removed; saltwater crocodiles; mosquitoes; the Master in Salem’s Lot; vampires generally