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I feel I should explain my fascination with James Delingpole since he blocked me. I muted him ages ago so missed how odd his schtick had become. I followed him because we were colleagues at the Telegraph, where I was an editor and he wrote for the v popular Telegraph Blogs.
I liked him because he was such a box of contradictions. As a colleague, he was furious. Demanded self-publication despite legal concerns. Fuming phone calls if someone published something he disagreed with or, even worse, directly called him out.
He also seemed irked by the other bloggers' success as the platform grew. Hannan was building a huge Eurosceptic base as an MEP. Toby was setting up schools. Hodges was the PM's fave columnist. Meanwhile, James was a climate sceptic that the editor was a bit embarrassed of.
In person, he was nice. Timid, as lots of loud online right-wingers are. Desperate to be seen as cool (loved telling you he rolled a spliff for David Cameron) clever (constantly dropped his Oxford education) but was not intimidating and quite pleasantly nerdy.
A colleague said the first time they met him, they were expecting a six-foot firebreathing bodybuilder and instead got a skinny cyclist who had to borrow 20 quid because he'd forgotten his wallet. Even in 2018, I saw him at Tory conference, he was quiet and held-back
A couple of summers ago I saw him at a party where he nervously sidled up to someone he had been monstrous to online hoping for some sort of reconciliation and looked sincerely hurt when the other person told him to eff off.
In short, I find the anger, the possible insecurity and relationship with his little corner of the internet utterly fascinating. I hope he is happy, but I suspect not.
