The Beauty Parade

Pickles (right) with  Boris The Beautiful

If politics is showbiz for ugly people, Eric Pickles is a three-time Oscar winner.
Our beloved Secretary of State for Communities and Local Government fell off that plug-ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. No stranger to the dessert trolley, Pickles is a fat, piggy-faced, dollop of a bloke who nonetheless seems quite happy in that large expanse of skin he inhabits. In the telegenic tyranny that is the Westminster image factory, Our Eric has been rejected by quality control.
But is he on to something quite profound? Many observers accept there is a yawning chasm between the image promise and reality delivery of our politicians. The public know it,
the media know it, even if they themselves don't. Dave, Nick, and Ed are a bunch of phonies.
The Holy Grail of Authenticity is sought by many, found by few. Boris is onto this as well. He could comb his hair, but chooses not to. After all, no-one wants to look like Michael Fabricant. 
He relishes the gaffe-prone, bumbling schoolboy late-for-double-algebra-but-hot-and-bothered-because-he-forgot-his-homework look. He looks authentic, even if he isn't. Nigel Farage is home and dry on this one. Scratch Nigel, underneath you see Farage.  MPs like Kate Hoey, Paul Flynn and Douglas Carswell. The late Robin Cook (The Guv'nor of Gurn) all authentic people and good MPs, but photogenic, err, not quite. German politics has just returned their own frumpy hausfrau, Angela Merkel for a record third term. And American electors said no thanks to the uber-chiseled B-movie creepster, Mitt Romney. So in the calm and quiet of the next voting booth, vote for the ugly one. 
Eric Pickles has to be the real thing. You wouldn't manufacture a politician to look like that.