ANOTHER GREAT BNP DEAL

The BNP have always had great merchandise, but nothing that matches their new membership deals. They're throwing it at you like tuppenny tarts. And all you have to give in return is your soul (and £395).

Hitler never asked you to buy Teflon pans. The Nuremberg Rallies were not extended pitches for those fabulous Dyson hand-dryers. Mussolini's great propaganda films never once pictured Il Duce's flaccid buns feeling-the-burn aboard a Stairmaster 3000. So why is poor old Nick Griffin reduced to QVCing the BNP?

The repetition, the constant recapping of benefits, the strong, emotive imagery, the FREE FREE FREE add-on extras--Nick has got the TV salesman technique waxed as he tries to hawk lifetime BNP memberships to every telemarketer's favorite people: the "carefully selected group."

In the mid-90s a new gym opened in our area. Filled with sparkling glass atriums, gleaming rowing machines, and teams of toothy salespricks, they gave out 40 year memberships for prices too good to believe. Everyone signed up. The entire neighborhood frothed with nouveau riche joy. Later that summer, the gym went bust and everyone spent a lot of time staring disconsolately at their worthless membership cards. We don't talk about it anymore.

GAVIN HAYNES

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