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If we’ve learned anything from this utterly grim business in North Kensington it’s that we’ve not got a mayor or a Prime Minister who are up to the job.

Sadiq Khan can barely string a sentence together and it is easy to drift off while he’s mumbling earnestly about something or other and picture him being more at home behind the counter of a fast food shop. He’d be a guy who’d make sure you got a decent portion of fries. He wouldn’t forget to scatter a few extra sachets of ketchup on your tray.

As for Theresa May, I thought the actor Siobhan Sharpe gave an acutely accurate analysis when guesting on   the excellent The Last Leg. This is every inch a vicar’s daughter, used to being cosseted and detached from those that get their hands dirty in real life.

‘Darling, there’s an angry mob with lit torches at the door for you’ – ‘Daddy can tell them I’m a little tied up right now, but I will ensure there’s a paragraph or two explaining everything in the next parish newsletter.’

The poor poor people who woke up to find themselves either dead, or orphaned, or widowed and homeless have now become the centre of a storm.

By sunrise London businesses and London people had galvanised into providing practical support on the ground. Within just a 48hours, requests were made that the donations either cease or be redirected. The response had been overwhelming.

Wounded survivors were hospitalised and those needing to be put up in hotels were fixed up.

Yet the overwhelming focus has been on how May bungled the public relations.

Whereas citizen Corbyn was wandering through the crowds hugging the distressed and talking about requisitioning posh people’s empty pied-à-terres, the PM made two fleeting visits that emphasised her unwillingness to come into contact with the peasants.

Then Angela Leadsome showed up looking like she was expecting to open a fete.

‘What caused the fire?’ and ‘how the hell did so many people die?’ are the big questions that aren’t going to be comprehensively answered anytime soon, but Corbyn getting touchy-feely and the Queen doing what she too does best – empathy were great temporary bridges.

May – who looks like a woman who’s been sleeping in her car for the last few weeks – didn’t just swerve the great unwashed, but she created a vacuum of confused angry people; a mob who have spent the last few days being milked by the world’s media for heartbreaking soundbites.

May even managed to double down on her bad decisions by inviting a heavily vetted handful of gaggle of victims to 10 Downing Street. Accompanied of course – by a vicar. She may as well have her doorman hand them each a keyring and little union flag on a stick.

It’s been estimated that the homeless will be re-homed within 3 weeks or so. Looking at how the victims have been treated in practical terms, it all looks adequate enough.

However, even a cursory glance at the big questions mentioned above, these victims are due considerably more compensation than a room at a Premier Inn, a fistful of gift vouchers and the threat of new home.

It’s nobody’s business but the state’s to step up to the plate and prevent these poor people from appearing greedy.

May isn’t fit for office, but then we realised that after just a few hours into the ‘strong and stable’ tinnitus. Boris Johnson looms, the compulsive liar that did his level best to decommission every bloody fire engine in the capital. Christ, even the ‘Boris Bikes’ weren’t his baby they were Ken Livingstone’s.

The troubled folk in North Ken deserve better than this and despite all his faults, whether you like or not, Corbyn is looking more statesmanlike by the minute.

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