Can there be a better symbol of these topsy-turvy times than the sight of Tommy Robinson leaving jail with the same half-arsed face fungus as your average radical Islamist?

Finally, we can see Stephen Yaxley-Lennon's true colours. And he's got ginger pubes.

Whether he looks more like a homeless Ian Beale, Jihadi Jack, Catweazel or a middle-aged Shaggy who ate Scooby Doo rather than try the prison food, is a matter for debate among the internet's idle gif-hunters.

And no doubt the governor of HMP Belmarsh is at this very moment looking at a split football found in his cell, with a handprint drawn in crayon, and wondering how long it will be until his former guest gets in touch to say he left his only friend behind.

But more importantly, this former football hooligan, fraudster and illegal alien now embodies the absolute state of our politics.

He bemoans "two and a half months" of being "caged like an animal" – cue the Mein Kampf orchestra – which, from another perspective, was a 9-week holiday from being Gerard Batten's comedy sidekick.

And just as the pro-Brexit campaigners have done more to undermine Brexit than the wettest Lib Dem, he proved that his own groupies' clutch on sanity is weaker than Ann Widdecombe's pelvic floor.

Catherine Blaiklock, the woman too racist even for the Brexit Party, claimed after she visited him that he had "prison eyes" and "never laughed", which is funny because her description of him as "an unassuming English teacher" is a proper sidesplitter.

Hatie Plopkins told the world he was isolated to "keep him safe from majority-Muslim prisoners", but didn't think it worth noting he felt "safe" only when sandwiched in a cell block between Thomas Mair and Abu Hamza.

She also claimed he'd be using the back door upon his release, but I suspect that's up to his wife.

The tinpot twit even undermined himself, while claiming to be a legitimate journalist merely going about his duties, and then boasting he'd been to "10 criminal courts" during his actual career of being a recidivist.

But in this, frankly, he is behaving in rather Prime Ministerial fashion. Because our current PM also spouts complete tripe while tap-dancing on the shifting sands of where other people imagine his non-existent principles are buried.

For Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson has also been found by courts to have lied. To the Queen, no less. One court said it was normal politics, the other that it was not cricket. The highest court in the land is now set to consider whether lying to Her Majesty ought to be in Wisden.

Meanwhile he's been banging on about how Labour should "let the people decide" on Brexit, while apparently unaware that he LITERALLY HAS THE POWER TO CALL A PEOPLE'S VOTE ON BREXIT WHENEVER HE WANTS.

MC Escher couldn't paint Brexit with a busload of mescaline and a Jabberwocky.

But then there's everything else, too. John Bercow denounced for being bad at his job because he didn't do what the government wants, when his job is to do what the Commons wants.

Nigel Farage saying "I'm not asking to be in government", having just asked the government to help him get 50 seats so he can enter coalition with them.

David Cameron giving us the benefit of his memoirs, when this whole sorry mess is the result of some bad cheese he had one night.

And to top it all, a woman who campaigned against domestic abuse just inducted a convicted domestic abuser into an ancient order of chivalry.

No Deal planning documents which two weeks ago were leaked under the title of "base case" are now published officially as "worst case" scenarios, which just FYI don't contain a single problem that Dominic Cummings need ever be on the sticky end of.

A union boss doesn't want workers to vote on the future of their industries. A Labour leader says he won't accept what 70% of his members tell him to do. The party of law and order is urging its leadership to break the law, and Tory grandees are now punks.

And so what, you may ask. Politicians (and Tommy-Stephen-whatever is very much one of those, albeit for a crowdfunded version of a 1930s dystopia) have always said one thing and done another.

Well, yes. But usually, years apart. And with a degree of "according to what I believed at the time". The current speed of political volte face is about 120rpm, and therein lies the problem.

When things move quickly they blur. So Johnson starts to sound like a chirpy Del Boy Trotter, Farage is a kingmaker because he keeps telling us so rather than showing us any evidence of it, and someone who did all he could to let Muslim rapists go free is somehow an anti-Islam 'activist', as opposed to a complete twonk.

Yaxley-Lennon's long association with the criminal justice system really should have given him some clue as to how it works.

But he knew he was courting prison. Two members of Britain First were sentenced for similar offences before him, and got lots of lovely publicity. And there are plenty of razors in jail – there's no need for him to sprout the bum-fluff, unless he wished to look hard done-by on his release.

Yaxley-Lennon had a short and cushy sentence then walked out to a guaranteed increase in funding. There is not another criminal in the country who can say the same.

Without publicity, he has no cash. Without court cases, he'd have no TV cameras. And without a world that has stopped making sense, he'd have nothing to argue about.

That's where bending the truth gets you – a place so darkly manipulative that every decent soul turns away from all of it.

They are worlds apart, but Yaxley-Lennon is the parasite on Johnson's back. The Etonian's logical and lexical contortions give the creature a life he could never have if only Johnson had not been given free rein to dry-hump the constitution.

There are two ways it can go when the world turns upside down. Either it stays that way, or people realise their head hurts and flip it back over.

When you get to vote again, you're not voting for any of these people. You're voting on whether to continue down the rabbit-hole, or come back up into the fresh air, where the likes of Yaxley-Lennon cannot survive.

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