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They have been building in strength since the turn of the century, buoyed by the failure of New Labour and the galvanisation of a deeply conservative print press. They were there when political correctness went mad, when the Muslims cancelled Christmas and school-children had to start singing "baa baa multi-coloured sheep". They were there in the studio for Noel's HQ, marching on Downing Street to save Clarkson, Help for Heroes stickers plastered in their rear-view windows. Yet they've been around far longer than that.All through the 20th century these frustrated men, from Alf Garnett to Enoch Powell, have been shouting from a distance. Previously, however, progress has prevailed – whether left or right, Clement Attlee or Margaret Thatcher, Tony Blair or David Cameron, modernisation has drowned them out. Not in 2016, though. For 2016 is the year when looking back became the new looking forward. The year when power was ceded from the young to the old, from the globally-minded to locally-concerned.Of course, it's impossible to talk about this situation and not pay tribute to Nigel Farage. Nigel Farage: the spirit animal of men called Ken. Nigel Farage: the man who sucked the sex out of smoking cigarettes. Nigel Farage: the man who, if he wasn't a total shit, you'd probably call a legend. Do you remember when Nigel Farage was, sort of, funny? When people threw fruit at him? It seemed like every week he was defending another UKIP gaffe – everyone was a "slut" or a "chinky", and the world still felt new. Those days are past. The cult of Farage – and it is a cult; you only need look to the very presence of the "You Can't Barrage the Farage" meme to realise Nigel's Drake-like levels of internet adulation – has built in strength and numbers.The little-Englanders and ale-swilling put-the-world-to-rights politicos have risen up from their Facebook groups and barely audible fringe parties, and staked an influential position in the political mainstream.
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