Hitting the pain barrier.

I don't think I can face another news bulletin, and even in normal circs I am a newsaholic.

In the past week I have overdosed on GOTV campaigning, 24-hour political TV and radio, political betting sites and poll-dissection.

I’ve been looking for signs that the British electorate is neither so infantilised nor so brainwashed that it will allow Labour back into office whether by the front door or the back, or though an unlocked window.

I still need that assurance.

With every change in the betting, and every desperate, mendacious and corrupt word out of the mouths of the scum who have ruled us in recent years in their final war of attrition, and from the empty wannabes whose only policy is ‘Let me in!’, I oscillate from confidence that the British electorate is smarter and more principled than these Labour and LibDem bastards (hard to know which of the two parties is more dishonest), and despair that lies, fear-mongering, mischief and caprice will doom this country to the sort of socialist-inspired hell that is Greece today and may tomorrow be Spain and Portugal – two countries still living the backlash from fascist dictatorship. Yes, Labour’s criminal tax-and-borrow economic fantasy has indeed brought us that low.

Surely to God the people of the United Kingdom have not, alone of the sane, hardworking north Europeans, become the first extra-Euro PIIGS? The shame of it would be hard to bear.

Cameron says he will not be dictated to by the disastrously politicised civil service in the matter of hung parliament protocol, and especially not by a chief mandarin who is the most notorious Brown insider in Whitehall. Well, good for Cameron. However, if there is any risk of drawing the Crown into a political fire fight, Cameron may have to back down in that dispute. So the real decision lies, as it must, with the electorate.

Months ago, I put money on a Tory majority. Not a lot. More of a gesture than anything else. Will I win my bet? Like all gamblers, I think I bet with my head while in fact the guts rule for much of the time. I am getting used to these cramps, as doubt gnaws and faith waxes and wanes and waxes again.

But my compatriots are more like me than they are like Brown, Balls and that bastard Hain. Surely?

Maybe I will collect my winnings on Friday. If not, it’s not just my wallet that’s fucked. It’s my country and everyone in it.