As a Labour Party member you would expect me to be supporting Jeremy Corbyn for PM. However, last Sunday my nephew and I got a train from London to Wolverhampton following a Bob Dylan concert at the London Palladium, and who should join us on the train but the Great Leader himself, casual and relaxed in second class, talking to some young children about their lives? At Wolverhampton station I button-holed him before he went off in a black Range Rover to a meeting in Telford. He had no security detail, no entourage and no state pomp. If I’d tried to do this to Tony Blair or Ed Miliband. I’d have been dragged off the platform by a gang of Blackberry-toting Millbank SAS operatives. I was deeply moved by Corbyn’s human warmth. I’ll now be throwing myself into the campaign to defeat the robotic establishment idol that is Theresa May.
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